It’s exciting to see Shyamalan on such confident footing once more, all these years later.
"Blue" (1968) is not just a bad movie, but a painfully inept one.
Bad movies sometimes exhibit a certain professional flair: There's the work of a cameraman or a supporting player, perhaps, to cheer you even while the film itself grinds toward disaster. But in "Blue" there is literally no redeeming factor. There may have been worse movies this year, but none that aimed so high.
"Blue" (1968), on internal evidence, was intended to be a serious western, a morality play of the "One-Eyed Jacks" sort. The hero (Terence Stamp) is a Yankee who has been adopted by a Mexican bandit.
Their gang raids a Yankee settlement across the border, Blue is wounded, and kindly Doc Morton (Karl Malden) takes him into his home. There, as Blue heals, he is led toward civilization and redemption by the Doc's beautiful daughter (Joanna Pettet). Thus does charity still the beast in our heart, and all that.