Fuller's first directorial effort tosses conventional genre patterns and!nbsp;character motivation out the window for an elemental tale!nbsp;of psychosis and delirium. Erasing the panoramic vistas and heroic!nbsp;narratives of the Western, Fuller uses claustrophobic close-ups to tell of!nbsp;"a dirty little coward" who killed a man not for honor or revenge, but for!nbsp;the love of a show girl. The girl betrays him, of course, leaving our!nbsp;weasel of a hero to wallow in fear, loathing, and the threat of revenge.!nbsp;Stripped of expansive settings and action scenes, with dialogue cut to a!nbsp;minimum and only the characters' florid neuroses to latch onto, the film!nbsp;presents a West more attuned to Dostoyevski than John Wayne, a world of, in!nbsp;Fuller's words, the passions of "shabby, ill-educated fool(s)." Warped,!nbsp;lightning-quick, and overripe, it is already boiling in the!nbsp;trademark Fuller style.-Jason Sanders!nbsp;