SHILOH 2: SHILOH SEASON (1999) * The definitive moment is when the boy looks for his dog underneath the tablecloth. Not the table, mind you, the tablecloth. Nope, ain't there. If some extraterrestrial court ever tries the human race for gross stupidity this film ain't gonna be a defense exhibit. It's so bad, and it tries so hard to be sappy. It's a special kind of monster flick, and there are two monsters: the society depicted, that turned the neighbor into a nasty drunk; and the society that enabled the film itself to come into existence. The neighbor ain't much of a monster, what with him wavin' around his ol' cans of Old Milwaukee and all. He tells me he's gonna be a problem huntin' on my land, an' ah'm tellin' him all he's gonna be huntin' fer is uh am-bue-lance. It really...not so much...well, it makes an undeserved and unintentional mockery of the South, and the southern tradition of excellent dog stories...but even worse, it insinuates itself into that proud tradition. I can't tell if the father is trying to sound like Rod Steiger (bein' in the presence of a great actor makes him want to be the same one), or if he's done broke into grandma's codeine bottle.
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