The Night They Came Home

THE NIGHT THEY CAME HOME is a 2024 western directed by Paul G. Volk and written by John A. Russo and James O'Brien. The film tells the story of the infamous Rufus Buck Gang who waged a campaign of violence from 30 July 1895 to 4 August 1896. Their crime spree spread across the Indian territory of the Arkansas-Oklahoma area. Their crimes included robbery, rape and murder. The young men who composed the gang were Creek Indian and African-American. While their activities appeared brutal and warrantless, there was a socio-political undercurrent that still resonates today.

The film opens with sunlight beaming through the bars of a jail cell. Young Rufus Buck (Charlie Townsend) awaits his own hanging. In this brief scene, it is made clear that Rufus isn't just another villain with a short temper. His countenance is mindful and his lamentations ring true, "Things look a lot more beautiful when you know it's the last time you're gonna see 'em."

Danny Trejo is then introduced as the Gravedigger, who serves as the film's narrator. Who he is and how he knows intimate details of the gang is never explained, adding a sense of grim whimsy to the proceedings. And while the Grave Digger illuminates the Rufus Buck story, he is decidedly vague about his own identity, "Digging graves is what I do. I like to think it doesn't define me. But it does."

The Rufus Buck Gang is a motley crew of cheerful rogues - the Lewis brothers, Sam Sampson, Maoma July and, later, Buck's cousin, Charles. They follow their charismatic leader without hesitation. They act as a single, decisive entity. Their presence is, at once, terrifying and genuine; the camaraderie is addictive. A tense introduction of the Rufus Buck Gang establishes an ominous tone for what is to come as they steal a horse from a local farmer (Brian Austin Greene) and his son. Rufus reveals himself to be a bleak visionary when he recounts how God punished the wicked with a great flood in the Book of Genesis. He concludes the sermon with a gloomy forewarning: "There just might need to be another flood."

It is revealed that, like so many Native children at that time, Rufus and his friends were inducted, against their will, by a Missionary School, where they were subjected to what one character calls, "Death by civilization." And that is the fuel that burns a vengeful fire inside Rufus. He is driven by ambitions to raise an army and push the whites back to Europe. His confidence is unapologetic as he declares, "Let 'em spread the word of the Rufus Buck Gang!"

In pursuit of the gang are a mismatched duo of historical lawmen, Deputy Marshall Heck Thomas (Tim Abell) and Marshall Paden Tolbert (Tommy Wolfe). They are commissioned by Cherokee High Sheriff Sam Sixkiller to bring the gang to justice, and to stave off any lynching. They form a sort of buddy-cop dynamic that adds to the fun.

While the low-budget production is competent and nuanced - a hangman's living room is decorated with empty nooses. The acting is convincing with authentic performances by Abell and Trejo. But it is the young actors playing the Rufus Buck Gang who steal the show. Phillip Andre Botello, as real life gang member Lucky Lewis, delivers a character that is at once charming and chilling. And in a tour de force performance, Charlie Townsend commands every scene he is in, somehow making Rufus Buck - an unrepentant rapist and murderer - not only sympathetic, but a bit joyful! His men are loyal to him - one gang member even volunteers to be used as a decoy so the others can escape, inspiring Rufus to spout my own favorite line, "I tip my hat the Rufus Buck Gang!" The script by Russo and O'Brien is packed with terrific wordplay. Trejo practically sings his dialogue, spouting lines like: "Justice may be blind, but she's a cold ass bitch to the man in chains."

Paul G. Volk helms the film with bold strokes, balancing the gang's breezy attitude with their penchant for sudden, relentless violence. Volk casually asks the audience to embrace these killers despite their horrific faults in order that we may understand them. In the film's most harrowing scene, the gang nonchalantly draws cards to see who gets to rape a pioneer woman first. Volk challenges the audience to contemplate, not the vile act itself, but the reason behind it. Rufus and his men are convinced that "there is nothing innocent when it comes to whites." And Volk neither indulges in the cruelty nor condemns it; rather he simply asks us to look beyond the inhumanity and see the emotional motives for such heinous acts. The actions of Rufus Buck, though awful and malignant, are capitulated in one of his most compelling sentiments, delivered from behind bars to his white captors: "I hate y'all for not allowing this world to be the way the Great Spirit intended it to be."

While the film sports a fair amount of action, this is not a cut-and-paste shoot-em-up; and though the budget is sparse, this is not a B-movie. THE NIGHT THEY CAME HOME is a splendid drama and a compelling character piece. But most of all, it's a real western. I dare say it's a classic.

Closing with a haunting song by Rob Matthews called "Still I Try", the film invites introspection; and that is exactly what all the classic westerns do, from High Noon to Unforgiven. They cause us to consider our own morality and sense of compassion. And that is why I recommend THE NIGHT THEY CAME HOME to anyone who loves a great story, and everyone hankering for a true western. Congratulations to the cast and crew! This is a terrific film worthy of celebration!

Worst piece of garbage of social justice, of weakly written, poorly conceived, and stink up junk to waste film on. The costumer should be fired. The prop person should be fired. The writer should be fired. The director should be fired.

A low budget film can happen. Case in point: Bone Tomahawk. Obviously that movie was made on a dime. Some of the costumes were meh, but at least the dialogue sparkled with a sort of authenticity.

As an actor it must be torture to recite lines that are so poorly written, so full of anachronistic language.

About the only good thing in this flick was the gang's demise.

I never walked out of a movie until "The Night They Came Home". I'm not sure if it was the acting or the script that was worse, but both are horrible. The beginning starts with a narrator and she builds up what sounds to be a really good story, then it comes across the screen " A True Story". Now I love movies that are based on true events, but whereever or whomever this true story came from was not a storyteller or it was transcribed badly. Whoever wrote the screenplay for this movie has either never written a screenplay before or is not a writer by trade.

Run, don't walk away from this steaming pile of excrement.

First of all, you can tell right away this is a low budget B movie by the cheap fake looking costumes. You may not realize it after seeing Danny Trejo on the cast and trailer, but remember so is Nicholas Cage in many lame movies.

Then there is the script. It is non-stop guilt tripping about the evil white man. At first you kinda think, well sure it is that time and place, and there is some of that I get it. Then after like 30-40 mins, you realize it is nonstop. Every few minutes, it just keeps bringing it up, every little situation, every dialog, just keep repeating the same political points.

People watch movies to be entertained, not to be lectured. And I'm not even white.

1/10.

As an avid fan of Westerns and always looking under that rock for the next great story-regardless of budget, i.e. "Bone Tomahawk"-I tried to give this one a chance. This one absolutely sucked from the first scene on; and kept getting worse. I stuck it out, but it's nearly two hours I will never get back. The dialogue was preachy and dumb. The camera work was erratic and novice, oftentimes looking like it was filmed on a iPhone. I'm amazed that shows like this make it beyond the pitch to production. This movie was absolutely horrible in every measurable way. I would rather take up crochet or eat a warm bucket of hamster vomit than sit through this hot mess of a feeble attempt at cinema.