The tale of an outlaw who escapes from prison and sets out across the Texas hills to reunite with his wife and the daughter he has never met.
Ain’t Them Bodies Saints is a thoughtful mood-piece that adds up to more than the usual outlaw story; it haunts the mind like the half-forgotten folk-song the title suggests.
The film has a haunting quality that allows it to linger in the mind, and leaves us with a sense that Lowery has great work in his future.
Slow-burning, swoony and spare, but lacking in dramatic urgency.
An initially captivating but finally trying attempt at resuscitating the glory-glory days of the ’70s by a talented director who needs to find his own voice.
It's a poignant story of sundered love, earnest and intense, without being exactly tragic, and although writer-director David Lowery interestingly refuses certain romantic cliches, you wonder if he knows exactly where he's going with the narrative. Strong performances from Mara and Affleck.
Mara's hunted-deer eyes and Affleck's quavery sing-song voice are just right for keeping our judgment off-balance and our senses on guard.
It’s impassioned filmmaking, and bodes well for a more original vision from Lowery further down the line.
Not quite the new American classic it strives to be, but one you’ll want to revisit.
Lowery focuses on melancholy moods, inner turmoil and the golden glow of cornfields to create an earnest, leisurely tale of lost souls and last chances.
On the evidence of Ain't Them Bodies Saints, while the western may not be alive and kicking, its ghosts still haunt the landscape of modern cinema, drifting across the misty screens of the 21st century like a distant song – half forgotten, yet still remembered, and very much loved.
Interview: David Lowery, director of Ain't Them Bodies Saints
General release. Check local listings for show times.