THE LAST STOP IN YUMA COUNTY (2023)

Skimming through reviews of The Last Stop in Yuma County, it won’t take long to come across repeated uses of words like ‘nifty’ or ‘neat’ to describe this (mostly) single-location crime thriller. They’re understandable descriptors; Francis Galluppi’s directorial debut has a small budget and shows it. Expressive cinematography or high-octane thrills won’t be found here. You’re also not likely to come across an artistic vision unlike anything you’ve seen before; Quentin Tarantino’s influence is striking throughout this film.

Instead, what The Last Stop in Yuma County boasts is a well-paced thriller that’s more than happy to bide its time, but which has you intrigued by how close it plays its cards to its chest. After an unnamed travelling knife salesman stops at a filling station in a remote location, then heads to the diner right beside it, alarm bells should already be ringing in viewers’ heads (has cinema ever been kind to such salesmen, who are almost always depicted as con artists?). Further alarm bells are rung when he gives an uncomprehending look to waitress Charlotte (Jocelin Donahue) when she offers him a slice of cake for his daughter Sarah, despite mentioning that he was travelling to see her just moments before. He’s stuck in this diner for the foreseeable future, seeing as both his car and the station pumps have run out of petrol, requiring a refuelling truck which could take hours to arrive (and, thanks to a clever opening credits sequence, we know never will).

The conversation between this pair is pleasant enough; both seem like the kinds of people you want to trust. Not so for the two wayward souls that show up minutes later, with the older and more threatening Beau (Richard Brake) pulling a gun on Charlotte not long after his suspicions are piqued from overlooking an anxious conversation between her and the knife salesman. His accomplice Travis (Nicholas Logan), who helped him commit a much-talked-about bank robbery, is the hapless one of the duo. Travis points his gun and shouts demands like he’s being ordered to, and lacks the cunning instincts of his (literal) partner in crime. His stupidity is apparent, and played up for comedic relief, but not to the extent that he descends into caricature; Galluppi has a strong hold on how to let these characters display moments of heightened emotions without feeling farcical.

For Charlotte and the knife salesman, their new role is simple; they must go about their day as if nothing has happened, as more and more customers continue to spill into the diner, all of whom are stuck there, hopelessly waiting for this refuelling truck to show up. It’s a simple yet ingenious way of trapping a group of disparate people together and witnessing the sparks that fly from their interactions. But that latter part is only an assumption; like Tarantino’s The Hateful Eight (2015), which this film appears to take a great deal of inspiration from (as well as from that director’s oeuvre as a whole), this affair plays out slowly. You won’t hear fierce dialogue very often (though when it does arrive in the form of Beau’s threatening, domineering presence, it is much appreciated).

There are plenty of needle drops, which, though generally consistent as a collection of popular 60s tracks, are more easily recognisable under the banner of ‘ironic tracks that don’t emotionally map onto the scenes they feature in, but which are instead inserted to make such scenes appear cooler than they are’. It’s not a very catchy heading, admittedly, but surprisingly there isn’t a more adequate label for such a common phenomenon (horror fans will no doubt be aware of the proliferation of ironic needle drops, especially in recent years and almost exclusively during a film’s final scene). That said, screenwriter and director Paul Schrader, in a short assessment of the film, has given it, and this film as a whole, an appropriate label: ‘Ironicana’. It describes the ironic inversion of film noir, a fitting description of what The Last Stop in Yuma County is going for.

Schrader states that the genre began with Pulp Fiction (1994), another huge inspiration for Galluppi’s debut. But what is missing from this experience, and which is so apparent in Tarantino’s work, is a sense of specificity. The characters in this tightly packed ensemble aren’t interchangeable—this writer-director shows far too much promise to make such an obvious mistake—but often they’re missing an edge. I can’t say I enjoyed watching The Hateful Eight, but even as its characters’ allegiances shifted constantly, each one of them was always, unmistakably, their own man or woman. In laying out how this project began in an interview, Galluppi explained that his music career used to have him travelling to all kinds of locales, many of them sparsely populated, making him feel like a fish out of water. From this, it’s easy to see why he would be so drawn to a plot that sticks people who wouldn’t normally interact into one compact space together.

But what’s missing is keen characterisation. Take the knife salesman, for instance, a character who shows some intrigue in the opening scene, and is then reduced to a scared-looking wimp for the rest of the proceedings in this diner. He’s relatable—I’d likely demonstrate a similar degree of anxiety in this kind of scenario—but that’s not the point. This film’s too invested in its humble characters, like the kindly waitress Charlotte, or the elderly couple, Earline (Robin Bartlett) and Robert (Gene Jones), who show up later on, where the former is accommodating to all strangers while her husband has no issues with showing some mild hostility. No one here leaps off the screen and grabs you by the throat, or, to put that in far milder terms, makes a strong impression. Only Beau comes close to that achievement, and that’s only down to how menacing he is, a quality that hits its ceiling early on when he literally and figuratively achieves this end by almost choking Charlotte to death. Killing civilians will only lead to a more stringent manhunt, and the practical and cunning thief won’t have that, so the tension is always mild once his intentions are clear.

Even still, there’s plenty of fun to be had with this directorial debut, which moves with a quiet yet confident rhythm towards a climactic endpoint. The new arrivals to the diner might not be scene-stealing, one-of-a-kind characters, but that was never their intention. They each contribute greatly to a tense ensemble piece that one suspects can only end in bloodshed; the fact that most of them are regular people and not firecrackers waiting for an opportunity to spark and set the whole room alight makes this so intriguing. Most of these characters are innocent people who could easily get caught in the crossfire of a tense showdown, but their opacity and how rough around the edges they are gives them a mysterious quality.

None of them are interesting enough to follow in their own exploits, but when paired together they each elevate the others’ qualities, crafting a story with plenty of intrigue at its core. Unfortunately, there is one giant caveat to that statement, with the film taking an absurdly bold move when its climactic showdown finally occurs, which is every bit as bloody and definitive as one could expect. It also happens about two-thirds of the way through The Last Stop in Yuma County, leaving a half-hour stretch that is incredibly slow-paced, meanders beyond all belief, and follows someone who we know next to nothing about. Was this person lying about their background earlier in the film? Do they have a shady past that they weren’t willing to let slip before? Bizarrely, these questions aren’t even asked in the film, let alone answered.

Therefore, if we’re to take this character at face value, it’s absurd to consider that their loved ones or more righteous qualities don’t present more of an obstacle for their criminal endeavours, which are so half-assed that they make the entire film feel like a giant improv experiment. To truly reckon with this plot development, you have to imagine a class of very skilled improvisers, who each create different roles in a hostile showdown ensemble between a group of strangers. As an improv piece, the story uses its small scale and lack of backstory to its advantage, and while it’s not going to have you on the edge of your seat, its tension is more than a little intriguing. Now imagine that a novice in the class, who has no ear for subtlety and doesn’t even understand what improv really means, uses their turn in this storytelling game to state that an atomic bomb was dropped on all of these characters.

That’s not what happens in The Last Stop in Yuma County, of course, but in terms of scale and how it fundamentally alters this narrative’s course it might as well be. There’s no meaningful contrast between good and evil in an experience that trades its obvious Tarantino influence for an even more overt inspiration from the Coen Brothers’ filmography. (One of its core cast members, Jones, shared screen time opposite Javier Bardem in perhaps the most famous scene in No Country for Old Men (2007), involving a lofty conversation over a simple coin toss.) It is their dark comedy crime film, Fargo (1996), that’s the dominant inspiration here, with The Last Stop in Yuma County as a whole taking the place of Marge Gunderson’s gentle reproach of criminality and how little it amounts to in the end. Hence the ironic needle drop by the film’s conclusion, which laughs at this particular character’s folly with a shit-eating grin and a knowing nudge to the audience.

If this were explored with successful hints of intrigue or humour, this ending wouldn’t be so aggravating, but those are hard to come by in a very inauthentic portrayal of escalating scale and impending doom. A young couple arrive on the scene not long after this film’s bloody showdown, and their presence as screaming victims with no real agency isn’t just part of their roles; it’s an essential component of these characters and their actors’ performances. There are no outlets for enjoyment left, since this story has literally killed off the remaining embers of its creative spark. Whereas Fargo and its TV series adaptation of the same name excellently displayed the tragic farce of crime as an endless rabbit hole, The Last Stop in Yuma County isn’t horrifying, bleak, or darkly humorous. It ends not with a bang, but with a series of consecutive whimpers that are only broken up by lulls in momentum, since they’re paired with an intensely slow pace that does this denouement no favours.

The lack of specificity in these characters makes it difficult to lavish much praise on its performers, though all of them—bar the aforementioned young couple who arrive late on the scene—are compelling. Donahue is particularly strong when embodying the world-weariness of Charlotte, who seems like she’s holding in some disappointment about where her life has led her, a quality that isn’t expanded on in the least here.

As for Galluppi, he’s the most obvious talent of all. Even if this film isn’t always the most impressive vehicle for conveying his skills, they shine in The Last Stop in Yuma County’s most absorbing moments, all of which take place in its quietly thrilling first hour. Although it’s a big departure in tone from this movie, it’s not at all surprising that director Sam Raimi recognised Garruppi’s talent and tapped him to helm a new Evil Dead film. As long as this budding and resourceful filmmaker can overcome last-act hurdles, a long and fortuitous career appears to lie ahead for him. As a feature film debut, The Last Stop in Yuma County is incredibly impressive, but it becomes dwarfed by its influences and mired in its plotting.

USA | 2023 | 90 MINUTES | 2.39:1 | COLOUR | ENGLISH

Limited Edition Blu-ray Special Features:

• High Definition Blu-ray (1080p) presentation.
• Original DTS-HD MA 5.1 surround audio.
• Optional English subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearing.
• Audio commentary with director Francis Galluppi and executive producer James Claeys. This audio commentary is perhaps as close as one can get to listening to a hang-out between friends who just happened to make a film. The pair let their thoughts trail off or happily finish each other’s sentences as they relate their experiences during the film shoot for The Last Stop in Yuma County. It’s an enjoyable time listening to this duo, whose close relationship and passion for film-making is infectious.
• Audio commentary with Francis Galluppi and actors Jim Cummings and Jocelin Donahue. Arguably the most essential of these audio commentaries, since it involves the two most notable performers in the film, this trio offer humorous and insightful insights into their acting process and the different parts of the film they most appreciate. But what’s most apparent in this audio commentary is how emotionally invested each of them are in this finished project and the film shoot that led to it. They share so much appreciation for one another, as well as for the rest of the cast and some notable crew members.
• Audio commentary with Francis Galluppi and cinematographer Mac Fisken. This commentary is chock-full of details about problems that occurred on set, specific shots that Galluppi and Fisken most appreciate, and the general labour of love (and stress) that was this film’s production. The most interesting aspect of this commentary, though, is something that isn’t addressed: a continuity error that Galluppi states is present in the film but refuses to divulge, which seems rather glaring from the way he refers to it. It offers an opportunity throughout this audio commentary to search for it (which this author was unable to do).
• NEW interview with director Francis Galluppi, ‘Trust the Audience’ (30:27): Despite often talking about the difficulties of making this film, what comes across most in this interview is the dedication that Galluppi shows towards this project. He is more than happy to divulge the practicalities of the film shoot, with this 30-minute interview breezing by.
• NEW video essay by film critic Matt Donato, ‘Leave the Gun Take the Rhubarb Pie’ (13:06). Donato explores the delicate interplay between peace and warfare in this diner setting, and how the diner itself serves as the perfect intersection for all these disparate characters to contend with one another. The critic specifically hones in on Charlotte’s inability to conceal her worry, and how these moments of fragility do away with the niceties and blandly pleasant face of this American institution. Looked at in a wider sense, he uncovers the hellish scenario that these characters are placed in, where they are waiting for a salvation that will never arrive. Similarly, he discusses how they are sequestered in this space mostly to get away from the scorching heat, only to learn that there is no reprieve from it indoors either. This clever and insightful video essay is well worth watching.
• Making Of featurette, ‘Sell Your House’ (08:26): Full of personality and a very candid degree of honesty, this behind-the-scenes featurette delves into just a few of the problems (and endless degrees of stress) that punctuated this film shoot. It is wild and fast-paced, with dollops of humour on top for good measure. This is a must-see for aspiring filmmakers, as well as for anyone eager to understand just how difficult it is to craft a feature film.
• Screenplay-to-film comparisons.
• Trailer.
• Image galleries.
• Illustrated collector’s booklet featuring artwork by Adam Perocchi and NEW writing by film critics Kat Hughes and Meagan Navarro.
• Reversible sleeve featuring artwork by Eric Adrian Lee and Nicholas Moegly.
• Six vintage-style lobby cards featuring NEW artwork by Eric Adrian Lee.

Cast & Crew

writer & director: Francis Galluppi.
starring: Jim Cummings, Jocelin Donahue, Richard Brake, Sierra McCormick, Nicholas Logan, Michael Abbott Jr., Connor Paolo, Robin Bartlett & Gene Jones.