Legends of the Fall

with Brad Pitt, Anthony Hopkins, Aidan Quinn
Written by Susan Shilliday, William D. Wittliff, Jim Harrison
Directed by Edward Zwick
by Liz Starbuck

If ya like Gunsmoke or Bonanza, you’re gonna love Legends of the Fall – but don’t expect much more from it in plot innovation than you would from either of those TV shows. It’s not a bad movie. There’s an interesting turn here and there, but it basically follows the standard Hollywood modernized-Western motif, along the lines of Dances with Wolves: Veteran officer of some indistinguishable civil-type war learns the error of his ways and moves out to the plains to find integrity. He’s got the requisite Indian sidekick (the condescending ya-gotta-love-them-crazy-Indians sentiment is a bit unpalatable), and a houseful of strapping young sons. Along comes a lovely, enchanting young woman who can ride a horse as well as any of ’em, and throws everyone into a tizzy. Okay, fine. On the other hand, if you’re a heterosexual woman (or perhaps a gay or bi man?) and in possession of a coupla healthy secretion glands, you’d better bring something along to mop up. Hoooo-eee!

This beats any porn flick I’ve seen, hands down (oooh). And you don’t even see much skin! But who needs it when you’ve got… Now, I know you’re all sick to death of hearing about Brad Pitt, and I can’t blame you, but you’ll just have to accept my apology. The man is a total fucking god. Every time he comes on screen (damn, he never does come on screen) a huge collective sigh escapes (and this was at the Fresh Pond Mall, home of TJ Maxx, Staples, Bread & Circus, and the glamorous Brooks Pharmacy), and the squirming begins. I went to see it with a girlfriend, and I don’t know how the men liked it, but who cared? – we only had eyes for Brad. Two hours with him was worth a whole club full o’ Boston boys.