The Lone Ranger

Yesterday I saw The Lone Ranger, starring Johnny Depp and Armie Hammer.

Not a big fan of Westerns, I'll admit I went primarily because my visiting mother loves Johnny Depp and I knew this was something she'd want to see. Luckily, there was enough of him to keep us both engaged.

To set the stage..

John Reid (Hammer) is an anti-violence attorney in the old west, where his brother is a successful captain in law enforcement.

He gets into a series of sticky situations alongside Tonto (Depp), an Indian (as they called them in those days). Eventually, Reid is the last man standing in a terrible ambush with the bad guys, led by Butch (William Fichtner), making him by default: The Lone Ranger.

The scenes are painfully long, but the acting is presumably great, and Hammer is endearing as the naive accidental hero. They made him more bumbling than I remember the Lone Ranger from my childhood (re-runs of the old black-and-white series were common in our house), but he pulls it off well, all things considered. I'd also be lying if I said I didn't smile the first time the iconic theme music ramps up during one of the chases.

Of course Depp nails his role too, as a sarcastic, smart native of the land—the brains behind the operation—and in many ways outshines everyone else (as he typically does).

The film, however, is much bloodier than it needs to be, and the action scenes have almost as much breaking glass as Man of Steel. It's unnecessary, and it wastes a lot of time.

Did I mention this film is just shy of 2.5 hours long? Well, it is, and it doesn't need to be.

That pretty much says it all.

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