As a seventh-grade movie fan, I was about as sophisticated as Joe Bob Briggs, but without the irony. All a movie required was bullets, blood or boobs. Beautiful cinematography and complex characters were mere distractions. An interesting plot meant the screenwriter came up with some novel killing method. Trying to wean me off my cinematic diet of bloodlust, my mom suggested I try a Western. I couldn't imagine anything hokier than the VHS boxes featuring the likes of John Wayne, Gary Cooper and other old... More >>>