Native American drifter Robert Wolf (Jason Momoa), on the run since killing his mother's rapist, goes on one last life-affirming journey. Directed, co-written, co-produced, and starring himself, Momoa's ROAD TO PALOMA is a very boring passion project, riddled with nepotism and a total lack of giving a shit. It's just 91 minutes of Momoa and his later buddy Robert Homer Mollohan motorcycling, doing some improv, getting some food, getting some tail, getting into fights, and motorcycling some more. The movie is so sleepy, one of the law enforcement officers has to purposefully slip up with a clue in order for the plot to progress. When it does reach its endgame, the film suddenly becomes incredibly nihilistic; Apparently for one of the antagonists, murdering a sex offender is equal to an act of terrorism. Though some might find this to be a breeze or locate some beauty within the roadside imagery, I truly do not wish to sit through this hard ride again.
FINAL REVIEW: 1 / 5
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