California dreams, nightmares collide in 'Down in the Valley'

Call "Down in the Valley" alt-country filmmaking. With its classic Western themes brought into San Fernando tract homes, "Valley" feels like a tribute to the California dreaming of early 1970s Hollywood in the same way punky-tonk riffs on the ideal of Hank Williams as much as the music.

ThinkFilm 'Down in the Valley' 3 out of 5 stars Director: David Jacobson Starring: Edward Norton, Evan Rachel Wood, David Morse, Rory Culkin, Bruce Dern Run time: 114 minutes Release date: May 5, 2006 Rating: R for violence, sexual content, language and drug use. On the web Official movie site View the trailer    Trailers require Quicktime Rate 'Down in the Valley'   Go see it   Make it a matinee   Wait to rent   Don't bother Voter Limit: Once per Hour View Poll Results

It's not too surprising when rebellious teen Tobe (Evan Rachel Wood) falls for Harlan (Edward Norton), who may or may not be a real ranch hand. She's at the point in her young life where she ignores her good instincts in favor of crushes. He's a good-looking, earthy cowboy twice her age who eschews cars and is prone to profundities that prompt her to drag him home for some quick-fire sex.

"That's about as close to forever as I can imagine," Harlan says, swimming in the ocean for the first time. "You belong out here," he yells, walking between cars stuck in traffic. Smooth.

And it's no surprise he falls for her. Tobe is the sort of luminous blonde whose eye-popping beauty was made for sun-dappled horseback rides and days gazing at the Pacific. She is the Beach Boys' "California Girl."

But something's off. Was that Hebrew Harlan just yelled? And what's up with the six-gun he insists on toting?

Tobe's lawman father Wade (David Morse) wisely smells a rat under that cowboy shirt, but he's such an inept (and borderline abusive) father that he can't articulate his concerns, let alone keep Harlan out of his house. Tobe's brother Lonnie (Rory Culkin), beset with bottled-up anxiety, sees Harlan as the empowering father figure he's desperate for.

The uniformly strong performances point out the film's weaknesses. Norton has made a career of playing troubled young men with a past, and watching him is like seeing Michael Jordan practice free throws — of course he sinks 'em, but the thrill is gone. Wood captures Tobe perfectly: She has no idea what she wants or who she is, but she knows Harlan is like nobody she's ever met. Morse makes a tough role as rich as possible, while Culkin is typically excellent as the silently struggling kid.

But of course that six-gun goes off. Harlan isn't what he seems. And the second hour of this romance spirals into a profoundly heavy-handed thriller.

Also, its two-hour length feels too long by a third: "Valley" was reportedly recut after Sundance, but it clearly can't decide if it wants to be a meditation on myth, identity and what the Red Hot Chili Peppers call "Californication" or a 90-minute psychological crime flick.

That's the problem with riffing on all those '70s auteur pictures and revisionist Westerns: Some of them were really boring and not nearly as profound as they thought. "Valley" succeeds in embodying much that was interesting about that era and almost everything that was tedious.