150 Word Review: 'Pale Rider' (1985)
The horse has no name
In the '80s western Pale Rider, a girl's prayers are answered: God sends her a mysterious preacher played by Clint Eastwood to kill the bad hombres who terrorized her small mining town and killed her dog. I wasn't kidding; those hombres are bad.
Michael Moriarty is a humble gold prospector sitting on a rich claim coveted by a greedy, no-good local baron. Do you know how the West was won? Guns. Carrie Snodgress is a frontier woman friend-zoning Moriarty's tin pan. She has a thing for lanky, witty gunslingers.
Pale Rider is a run-of-the-mill Western with a surprising supernatural kick. Clint Eastwood directs it, and it’s not his worst movie (that would be Pink Cadillac or J. Edgar?) Eastwood's the same character he's played a dozen times—but he's good at it.
Cliche abounds: clanging spurs, snortin' steeds, six-shooters shootin'. The vibe is chilly, though. Is Clint's hero some avenging angel?