This movie is a throwback to the B-westerns of yesteryear. Trouble is, those old B-westerns are feats of epic cinema compared to this 2020 version of the American Western. And it's a shame, too. Here is THE vehicle that launched many an outstanding and treasured career - Wayne, Mitchum, Stewart, McQueen, Marvin, etc . . . Only these "leading" actors forgot to do their home work. The acting is "Al-Gore-wooden-like" as each actor struggles to strike their best pose to reveal their best side as they regurgitate their canned lines. There is no emotion or meaning to their words - they're just canned lines to be said, not communicated, just said. The Shea Sizemore screenplay makes sense, but it didn't get pulled together. The score adds nothing to the movie. In fact, at times it would be best if there were no score. I lay the quality of this film at the feet of the one to blame - Director Brent Christy. I apparently have never seen a Brent Christy-directed film - I hope I don't again. This film is all over the place, chasing it's tail. Siskel & Ebert - Beware!