Race car driver Leonard Nimoy has premonitions about stupid things so solves mysteries or something in this rightfully failed pilot.

Buster does a hilarious send up of the Hatfield and McCoy feud.

Kelly Reichardt, as usual, totally ignores Hollywood film language. Two friends travel to the woods to find hot springs. Is there something sinister in the woods? Will the friends come to blows from unspoken tension between the two? No, the biggest apprehension this film generates involves the questions 1) will they find the hot springs and 2) will Will Oldham go full frontal? Thank you, as usual, Kelly.

Sometimes I think good indie films are purposely hidden from the public so they keep consuming the bland mediocrity that Hollywood perpetually pumps out. This superb black and white urban riff on Charlie Chaplin's The Kid is just another example for my theory.