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5.8/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 5.8/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Wild Gold remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
Look, if you want a tight, logical script, keep walking. You’ll probably hate Wild Gold if you need your characters to make sense or act like actual human beings. But, if you’re like me and enjoy watching a movie slowly unravel while trapped in a desert cabin, you might get a kick out of this.
It’s the kind of film where the protagonist thinks destroying someone’s car is a grand romantic gesture. It is, of course, just plain creepy. But you keep watching because you just have to see how the guy plans to explain the missing carburetor.
Everything in the Nevada gold country feels a bit thin. The movie moves fast, maybe too fast, and suddenly we’re at this prospector’s shack. Honestly, the transition is jarring. It feels like the writers just got bored with the road trip and decided to dump everyone in one room to see what happens.
The prospector character is the definition of crusty. He grumbles a lot. You’ve seen him a thousand times in films like The Unblazed Trail, but he does the job.
Just when you think you have a handle on the story, a nightclub manager shows up with a bunch of showgirls. It’s a total shift in tone. Suddenly the quiet desert cabin feels like a stage set. I laughed out loud when they first walked through the door. It makes zero sense, but that’s the charm, I guess.
There’s a moment where a character just stands by the door staring into the middle distance for way too long. It’s awkward. I think the camera operator might have just forgotten to yell cut, or maybe they just liked the lighting. Either way, it’s a strange little detail that stuck with me.
It’s not quite as layered as A Woman of Paris: A Drama of Fate, and it doesn't try to be. It’s messy. It’s got weird pacing. But it doesn't bore you, and in this day and age, that’s really saying something. 🌵