Born again evangelist Beth Boothby (Brittania Nicol) and her cowboy partner Steve (Henry Garrett) travel to Scotland to teach the in-bred locals of Tresock, a small highland town with its own nuclear power station, about Jesus.
It's a dumb premise, made all the dumber by childish performances from the two lead roles. Boothby, some kind of internationally known singer with previous form as a Britney Spears-esque pop star comes across as simple minded and simpering, barely a rung or two above the intellectually challenged and self-professed 'dumb cowboy' Steve. Both have personalities as flat as Kansas. Their proselytising is irritating and their strangely forced Americanisms about as convincing as the notion of 21st century indigenous Scots as backwards sun-worshipping yokels.
The film yaws from scene to scene with no clear idea why or where it wants to go. Style is highly reminiscent of 80s film-making, replete with dodgy blurred fades to flashback and an overly-pronunciated script.
There are two highlights. One is Jacqueline Leonard as the lascivious lady of the manor. The age defying Leonard, better known for lending her beauty to British dramas like Morse, Peak Practise or Eastenders, seems to relish her role as the malevolent force in the Morrison household and sparkly eyed evil suits her well. Pity we don't see more of her on the big screen.
The second is Clive Russell as potty-mouthed Scottish butler, Beame, a great lumbering creature with an explosive temper, ridiculously huge in his kilt and pony-tail. Russell clearly knows he's gotten himself involved in a big pile of steaming haggis and plays for laughs from the off. Which is a good thing, because without that you have what amounts to a pretty unwatchable film.
I confess that I didn't make it to the end, losing interest with the clumsily produced finale at the castle. The horse was well and truly flogged and I'd seen more than enough.
One to avoid, unless you're a friend of the cast and crew or some kind of masochist for terrible movies.
It's a dumb premise, made all the dumber by childish performances from the two lead roles. Boothby, some kind of internationally known singer with previous form as a Britney Spears-esque pop star comes across as simple minded and simpering, barely a rung or two above the intellectually challenged and self-professed 'dumb cowboy' Steve. Both have personalities as flat as Kansas. Their proselytising is irritating and their strangely forced Americanisms about as convincing as the notion of 21st century indigenous Scots as backwards sun-worshipping yokels.
The film yaws from scene to scene with no clear idea why or where it wants to go. Style is highly reminiscent of 80s film-making, replete with dodgy blurred fades to flashback and an overly-pronunciated script.
There are two highlights. One is Jacqueline Leonard as the lascivious lady of the manor. The age defying Leonard, better known for lending her beauty to British dramas like Morse, Peak Practise or Eastenders, seems to relish her role as the malevolent force in the Morrison household and sparkly eyed evil suits her well. Pity we don't see more of her on the big screen.
The second is Clive Russell as potty-mouthed Scottish butler, Beame, a great lumbering creature with an explosive temper, ridiculously huge in his kilt and pony-tail. Russell clearly knows he's gotten himself involved in a big pile of steaming haggis and plays for laughs from the off. Which is a good thing, because without that you have what amounts to a pretty unwatchable film.
I confess that I didn't make it to the end, losing interest with the clumsily produced finale at the castle. The horse was well and truly flogged and I'd seen more than enough.
One to avoid, unless you're a friend of the cast and crew or some kind of masochist for terrible movies.