Pathfinder

The title of this post is the title of a poorly written and poorly directed movie that came on television a few nights ago. I recorded it and finally sat down to watch it, as Leah Marie is taking a some time for herself, pampering herself in a hotel in Roanoke this evening. Even edited for television, the movie is far too graphic, as far as violence; I found myself turning away or fast forwarding at times. The whole movie is pointless, gratuitous savagery: Vikings essentially committing mass murder of Native Americans 600 years before Columbus voyaged to the New World. Nearly all of the acting was horrendous, and all of the Vikings were barely even one dimensional. Seriously, cardboard cutouts would have done a better job. The only redeeming grace for this waste of celluloid was Karl Urban, who played the grown up version of the Viking boy once left behind. He became a part of the indigenous peoples and saved them from the next wave of marauders intent on wiping them out for no real reason but sport and blood lust. UGH!