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Time Out says
Nolte as a grumbling, obsessed, drunken bum; Bridges as an affluent dude cursed by conscience to help out an old chum in trouble with the law; Stone steaming elegantly over a wok of bad faith and best booze; Finney as an ageing king of the racetrack - what director wouldn't give his eye teeth to bring them together on screen? Warchus gives all four the space to breathe in this adaptation of Sam Shepard's play - all five, in fact, as Keener gives the stars a run for their money as Nolte's new girlfriend. Carter (Bridges) is nowadays a thoroughbred trainer surrounded by his acres of Kentucky stud while his wife Rosie (Stone) paces their mansion or rides her favourite mount. She's a fool for love, an apex of an old triangle with Vinnie (Nolte), a man still drowning in the past while living a fantasy life as an LA private eye. The film slowly pulls the three back together, and in so doing gives themes of betrayal, friendship, identity and the longevity of emotional scars a thorough workout. As an elaborate depiction of consequences, the drama has nowhere to go but backwards. Nevertheless, Warchus brings great confidence and relaxation to the direction, catching that quality in Shepard of non-judgmental distance that can seem like melancholy.