You've heard of spaghetti action films, now meet the vino western. Sicilian immigrants to old California are muscled off their vineyards by railroad bully-boys, who murder the leader of the farmers' resistance. His son Marco (Roberts, in plunging neckline and posy leather trousers) takes to the hills as a galloping avenger, cutting down his enemies one by one. Hollywood used to be able to make this kind of thing standing on its head, but alas no more. This is not so much The Mark of Zorro as The Snore of Marco, with drippy romantic interludes in between bursts of inconclusive action. Under Peter Masterson's direction, an all-too-distinguished cast rises to new heights of ineptitude. Pick of this curdled vintage of over-acting is Dennis Hopper's railroad boss, a role for which the actor was extremely unwise to attempt an Irish accent. Julia Roberts, in her first film, has only about three lines, which she may remember in retrospect as three too many.

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