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The film is a road-trip, a story about the virtue of surviving and the right of each individual to choose their own ending. After traveling to Mexico with his grandson (Jeremy Irvine), a rancher (Robert Duvall) finds stolen money from a drug deal.
Duvall can justify it all, he's just that kind of actor, but "A Night in Old Mexico" hasn't worked hard enough to give him a story worthy of his talents. In many cases, he is acting all alone up there.
A Night In Old Mexico would be stronger if it acknowledged a bit more how tall a tale it's telling. But it's good to see Duvall demonstrate so forcibly that he has no intention of going gently into that good night.
The movie doesn't have the same kind of emotional depth that Duvall and Wittliff managed to pull off decades ago. Worse, the dialogue often sounds stilted.
Red is the kind of lazily written, thankless curmudgeon role that uses the trials of advanced age for cheap laughs rather than harnessing a veteran actor's talent to engage our empathy.
It's hard not to wonder if Duvall got passed over for a role in Last Vegas and, not to be outdone by that snake Kevin Kline, decided to make the Western version instead.