Monte Walsh is a listless, wandering story of the old American West, which takes too long to get moving. Lee Marvin stars as a taciturn roughneck whose tragic romance with Jeanne Moreau comes across as irrelevant digression in a confused story.
This film [from a novel by Jack Schaefer] attempts meaningful exposition of the reality of an aging cowboy. Unfortunately, it appears that Marvin was simply playing his image, while other thesps were going through uncertain motions, and nobody had an eye out for exactly what direction the film was supposed to be taking.
Moreau’s scenes are more like padded inserts than vital plot turns. The basic feeble theme is what happened to prototype pioneers when Eastern money bought up ranches and began operating long-distance.