Ned Kelly (1970)

Tony Richardson made many odd flicks in his spotty career, none stranger than this misbegotten Aussie Western. A vehicle for Rolling Stone Mick Jagger, Ned Kelly (1970) buries the quasi-mythical bushranger beneath artsy pretension and incoherence. The 2003 Heath Ledger vehicle is The Wild Bunch by comparison.

Australian rancher Ned Kelly (Mick Jagger) gets arrested for a crime he doesn't commit. After a complicated series of events, Ned, his brother Dan (Allen Bickford) and their followers gun down two police officers, leading to a nationwide manhunt. Ned becomes a national folk hero, giving the finger to the authorities and building his reputation as an Aussie Robin Hood.

Ned Kelly mixes the worst traits of '70s Westerns (episodic plotlessness, griminess for griminess's sake) with those of art movies (general incoherence, anti-establishment posturing). Richardson goes for docudrama grittiness but the stiff staging and lazy photography undermines the effect. Aside from the sepia-toned opening and awkward armor-plated showdown, Kelly's only style is dreariness. It's a collection of incongruous episodes sloppily assembled: the assorted shootouts and booze-ups lack any context or internal drive. Waylon Jennings collaborates with Shel Silverstein (!!!) on the country soundtrack; next I hope to uncover a Jesse James flick scored by Johnny Cash and Richard Scarry.

Mick Jagger made a few stabs at acting but never really caught on, Nicolas Roeg's Performance (1968) notwithstanding. Jagger tries to sublimate his rock rebel persona, but only succeeds in being thoroughly dull, with a laughable Irish accent to boot. To be fair to Mick, he's not helped by Ian Jones' terrible screenplay, which never develops Ned beyond a Robin Hood cipher. The other cast members are served even worse.

What else to say? Ned Kelly bites hard. That makes four dreadful flicks in a row. Here's hoping I find something worthwhile to watch soon; even Groggy can't run on vitriol alone.