6.2/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 6.2/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Desert Man remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you have a soft spot for grainy, black-and-white B-westerns where the plot is thinner than a piece of parchment, sure. If you need character development or, you know, a budget, look elsewhere. Desert Man is for the kind of person who enjoys the sound of horses clopping on dry dirt for three minutes straight.
Wally Wales—or Wally Bradley, if we’re sticking to the script—plays the undercover government man with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. He and his pal Chuck show up to save Peggy Djarling’s ranch from the usual gang of mean-looking guys in hats. It’s the same story you’ve seen in Two-Gun of the Tumbleweed, just with less scenery to look at.
There’s a scene about halfway through that just… stops. The tension is supposed to be high because of an incoming shootout, but the movie just decides to let us watch a guy mend a fence for a weirdly long time. It’s bizarre. It’s almost relaxing.
The pacing is honestly all over the place. One minute there’s a frantic chase across the scrub, and the next, nobody moves for an eternity. It reminds me of the pacing issues in Murder at Dawn, where the silence starts to feel heavier than the action.
The villains are just generic bad guys, honestly. They scowl a lot. They wear dark hats. They stand in groups and look vaguely disappointed when their plans fail, which happens constantly. Yakima Canutt is in this, which is the only reason to really pay attention to the stunt work. When he hits the ground, you believe it.
It’s not a masterpiece. It doesn’t try to be. It’s just Desert Man, doing exactly what it says on the tin. Keep your expectations low, and you might actually find something to like in the dust. 🌵
