In Review: Let Him Go

Diane Lane and Kevin Costner are on an interstate road trip to Yikes-ville in Let Him Go, a dopey new vigilante drama collecting dust on screen faster than your grandmother’s knick knacks on a shelf. Like a Norman Rockwell painting of a public execution, Let Him Go is awfully quaint about the casual violence it accepts as everyday. As the film gets progressively more grim, it almost pathologically leans in toward chicken soup sentimentality to mind-boggling effect. You half expect its high body count finale to end by tunefully rhapsodizing the virtues of waking up to Folgers in your cup.

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