The Lone Ranger

Director Gore Verbinski’s The Lone Ranger, more aptly titled The Lame Ranger, is 149 minutes in length, which makes it 148 minutes too long.
 

In politics, “It’s the economy, stupid.”  In film, “It’s the script, stupid.”  That’s the overall problem here.  Writers Justin Haythe, Ted Elliott and Terry Rossio have created the worst piece of tripe imaginable.  It’s not only bad, it’s insulting to the iconic legend they’ve massacred. 

 

Of course the casting of wannabe actor Armie Hammer in the title role only adds to the travesty.  When William Fichtner as Butch Cavendish draws down on him, members of the audience yelled, “Shoot him!”  They could stand neither the poor portrayal nor the simpering character to which their hero had been reduced.

Rarely does a film sink to the depths of “crimes against humanity,” but this is The Lone Ranger’s only claim to dubious fame.

Not too far into the ordeal, I was thinking, “This film is only half as good as it should be.  At best it should get a 2+. “  But, then, it continued to get worse.

 

Near the end, an audience member kept pacing back and forth at the front of the theater.  Was he contemplating suicide?  Was he in a stupor?  Whatever.  No one objected because it was more interesting than anything on the screen.

 

And who did Disney have to pay off to get a PG rating?  The gratuitous violence that made one of the characters on screen vomit does not make this a suitable film for children.  Nor adults.

 There are too many good films out now to waste your money on this turd.

 

I give The Lone Ranger a 1 only for the effort Johnny Depp and Ruth Wilson gave to rise above this garbage.