Bone Tomahawk

I shouldn’t have to sell you with the words “western” and “Kurt Russell”. That alone should be enough to plop you on the couch and capture your attention. But that ain’t everything this movie has to offer. The cinematography? Amazing. The direction? Impeccable. The wide open west has never felt more hostile, more oppressive, and yet more seductive. At no point is it romanticized, though. This is a world where infected wounds may be a death sentence. It’s an ugly, gritty west, and the movie never lets you forget it. The acting is top flight. Not a single person gives less than their all, and more importantly, the movie lets them do it. It doesn’t shuttle then from plot point to plot point. It lets the characters become breathing people without feeling like it’s wasting time or losing pace. The journey of this movie is important as its climax, and that journey allows the four main characters to grow and develop, each as important as the other. And then there’s the last 45 minutes, where this movie goes from a gritty western road movie to a gruesome horror movie without changing tone at all. I know that sounds weird, but trust me when I say that somehow, the brutality of the final 45 minutes completely fits. It is stomach-churning, don’t get confused. If you don’t have an iron will, don’t watch. But for those who do, you’ll see why I say even though the genre changes, the movie’s feel and tone don’t. If I haven’t sold you yet, I don’t know what more I can say. I had a feeling this would be great. But it has exceeded even the loftiest of expectations.