This unexceptional post-Western from director Scott Copper should have been a work about the historical, cultural and political trauma of the genocide of the Native American but instead decides to go down the suicidal cul-de-sac of ersatz genre cinema, flagrantly resurrecting parochial archetypes and unadventurous narrative situations so to make a false claim for revisionism. Perhaps it is of little surprise that Cooper’s handsomely shot cinematic construct collapses under the sheer burden of American history and can only merely grasp at political analysis. A potent recognition of the intersections of past trauma(s) remain, notably the perpetual trauma of violence, linked to land, conquest and expansionism, and while Cooper is brave enough to dispense with any real plot, thereby making the narrative about a journey, the inert and sluggish rhythm works against a prescient thematic tryst. Bale does his best Sam Elliott impersonation as the redemptive Army officer who undergoes a purgative transformation but I’ve never been convinced by Bale as an actor; his stoic posturing is all bluster. What did work for me though and which was really nice to see was the plethora of cross dissolves that are deployed with epicurean intent. Also, we should be calling this one a Trauma Western.