This is a doughy lump of a soap opera pounded out to the specifications of a road movie; its director is an inveterate vagabond asked to do the job of a Mr. Fix-it. The outcome is often beautiful, more often artificial. One does not look to Wim Wenders for much in the way of tearjerking. Sighjerking, at most. A virtual human tuning fork, he knows all there is to know about how to sustain a tone. But he does not know how to sustain a tone and sustain tempo, too. And the monotonous hum goes on here for a good two and a half hours. With Harry Dean Stanton, Nastassja Kinski, Dean Stockwell, Aurore Clement, and Hunter Carson; written by Sam Shepard. (1984) — Duncan Shepherd
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