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Like all elegiac pseudo-Western characters, these two have found themselves in quite different circumstances in their twilight years.
Gault needs the work, but Hamer takes him on because the rest of their old crew is dead.
Even Bonnies limp feels less like a sign of vulnerability and more like a serial killers trademark strut.
Despite such elements, this isnt exactly a thriller.
Its more a laconic road movie, with Hamer and Gault making for intriguingly terse companions.
But these men can be effective, too, even as theyre befuddled by new procedures.
There is an idea here, but I wish Hancock had done more with it.
