86 minute running time but felt much longer since it’s a talk talk talk movie. I could only watch it at 2x ffwd; it’s about as slow as the hit-you-over-the-head metaphorical tortoise who lumbers across the screen at beginning and end. Harry Dean Stanton is 90 years old here and looks every day of it, an old smoker look (he died shortly before the movie was released). Harry is a now-harmless curmudgeon, crab walking around some dead town in the southwest.

David Lynch also looks about 90 years old and still talks in that weird way he always has. I’m sure that both the writer (an X-er named Drago) and director (Norm Gunderson) thought this was “precious,” a sort of respectful send-off for or tribute to old Harry Dean, but I wasn’t thrilled with it. May appeal to Boomers who are approaching death, but it’s an avoid for everyone else. Red rating.

(Dick Brody also didn’t like it.)