Here is a film that sneaks up on you. It starts out by introducing you two three off-kilter characters--Jeff Bridges as the drifting playboy Bone; John Heard as the crippled Cutter, a man of uncompromising rage and a razor-sharp tongue; and Lisa Eichorn as the Cutter's terminally depressed wife Mo. Within the first half-hour of meeting these pathetic folk, the narrative drops in a murder mystery: a girl's body is found in a garbage can and Bone is the chief suspect. When Bone has a momentary revelation and thinks that he saw local millionaire JJ Cord disposing of the body, Cutter becomes obsessed with proving Cord's guilt. They have no evidence, you see, but as Cutter is a Vietnam vet scarred from the war and Cord represents all the "fat cats" that sent young men to 'Nam to die, Cutter thinks a little payback is in order ("He's not just anybody," Cutter growls. "He's responsible!").
After this bizarre set-up, the film takes an unusual turn. It stops being about the mystery and more about Cutter's efforts to push Bone into taking some kind of action--any action--to give his life value. In fact, the question of Cord's guilt is left hanging, and we are treated instead to a powerful climax that leaves us breathless as the screen goes black.
Clearly one of my favorite films, the performance of John Heard alone is worth the price of admission. The mutilated Cutter is missing a leg, an arm and an eye, and he hobbles about swearing and growling like a drunken pirate. Some critics find Cutter offensive; I totally identified with his anger, although I felt that he took it too far at times. Nevertheless, Heard has given us one of the screen's truly memorable characters. You won't forget this film soon.
After this bizarre set-up, the film takes an unusual turn. It stops being about the mystery and more about Cutter's efforts to push Bone into taking some kind of action--any action--to give his life value. In fact, the question of Cord's guilt is left hanging, and we are treated instead to a powerful climax that leaves us breathless as the screen goes black.
Clearly one of my favorite films, the performance of John Heard alone is worth the price of admission. The mutilated Cutter is missing a leg, an arm and an eye, and he hobbles about swearing and growling like a drunken pirate. Some critics find Cutter offensive; I totally identified with his anger, although I felt that he took it too far at times. Nevertheless, Heard has given us one of the screen's truly memorable characters. You won't forget this film soon.