Don't Come Knocking

Beautifully shot in rich colors by Franz Lustig, it's possibly Wenders' most accessible film to date, and among his most emotionally satisfying.

It has long been clear that Shepard is a rare double talent. He has flourished, rightly, as a playwright, and he is also a compelling film actor. His face does more for the reality of this picture than anything he wrote in the script.

T Bone Burnett's soundtrack has the appropriate twang to give Wenders' Hopperesque tableaux a nice, filmic poetry. But as arresting as the images are, Shepard's clunky, soap-opera banter brings most everything, and everyone, crashing down to earth.

Strikes some resonant chords but also hits notes that simply don't ring true and are borderline risible at times

Only Lange is a powerful enough presence to raise a flicker of realistic emotion from this kind of stuff.

It's "Broken Flowers" with bourbon and ten-gallons and meta-country soundtrack warbles.

Pretentious drama.