It’s hard to think or David Gleeson’s Cowboys and Angels as anything more than pleasant
entertainment–not that there’s anything wrong with that. It requires a healthy dose of suspension of
disbelief, although not because the plot–what little there is–is outlandish.
The meat of this film is found in its characters, and that’s where it falls short. Only young Shane is
developed in any meaningful sense. However, it is difficult to see any reason that his roommate Vincent and
he develop the close bond that they apparently do. They do these wonderful things for each other without any
real apparent motivation, since we never see them bonding.
Alas, the final relationship, revealed at the end is predictable yet occurs entirely without any set-up.
How did it happen?
They all seem like nice enough people with good hearts, but the film needs to pay more attention to what draws
them to each other. Perhaps the best parts are on a cutting room floor somewhere along with the scraps of
fabric from the clothing that Vincent designs.
The performances are good, and the actors are certainly pleasant to look at, but they needed more meaning in the
material with which they were presented.