Place of Bones

by Mike McGranaghan

Place of Bones is perpetually on the verge of being a really cool movie without ever actually getting there. The story is set in 1876. Ultra-religious Pandora (Heather Graham) lives on a remote ranch with her daughter Hester (Brielle Robillard), whose grammar she perpetually corrects. In the area outside their home, they find Calhoun (Corin Nemec), a wounded thief. They bring him inside and treat his wounds, only to find out that he backstabbed his colleagues and absconded with the money they stole. Understandably, bad people come looking for him.

That’s kind of a classic Western set-up. Pandora and Hester must rely on their wits once they become stuck in the middle of tensions between Calhoun and the revenge-seeking outlaws. Along the way, the film teases some intriguing questions. How are these women surviving in such a remote area? What’s the deal with the grave belonging to Pandora’s husband that’s out back? Is there some kind of weird secret between mother and daughter?

Director Audrey Cummings encourages the actors to give broad performances. Nemec, in particular, channels the spirit of every over-the-top Western villain in cinema history. Richard Taylor’s screenplay, meanwhile, contains dialogue that’s like something out of a 1950’s Western TV show. The characters don’t talk like real people, they talk like caricatures. It’s surprising that nobody stops to use a spittoon in between sentences.

The story’s mysteries and its intentionally exaggerated style promise fun. About halfway through, though, you realize that the plot is spinning its wheels. Nothing amazing is happening. Instead, we get predictable gunfights and standoffs, not unlike those in dozens of other Westerns. Graham and Robillard are very good, yet the overprotective attitude Pandora has toward Hester is never allowed to blossom into an idea that gels with Calhoun’s arc. In that regard, the screenplay lets them down.

Most unforgivably, Place of Bones slightly changes genres in the last five minutes with a turn of events that, had it arrived sooner, would have elevated the movie above the norm. Tossing it in at the very end renders it incongruous with the stuff that happened prior. The effect is like watching Unforgiven, then being told that William Munny is a robot at the end. It’s maddening because as soon as the movie finally gets interesting, it’s over.

---