Victor Carroon’s review published on Letterboxd:
When Warren Oates says he’s going to kill a chicken in a Monte Hellman movie, the odds that you’ll see Warren Oates actually killing a chicken are 1:1.
My Hellman memorial watch. It’s far from his best work, but is still memorable beyond offering a second (to my knowledge) helping of Jenny Agutter swimming naked, personal if only in its meta-narrative reflection of the problematic production history, and notable for the depth and primacy of its human connections. There are worse ways to be remembered.