Charles Bronson plays an Apache on the run in this interestingly different Western that wears its liberal heart right on its sleeve. A decent cast of easily identifiable character actors (like Richard Basehart and James Whitmore) are part of a nearly rabid posse out to hang the noble savage until they decide to rape his wife ... guess what happens next?

This film is great. There's no real set. Essentially you got Bronson, who plays a half-Apache-half-Caucasian, in a bar, shoots a racist dude who's threatening him. He takes off. Jack Palance gets word of this and gathers men together to hunt him down. Bronson, being the closest to a protagonist, really isn't in this film a lot, and has even fewer lines, than screen time. This sucker basically is all about this motley crew of so-called good-doers on the hunt to the "Breed" (Bronson) and having it out between themselves, Bronson's odd traps, as well as trying to cause Bronson indirect pain, like going after his family. This is a strange film, as it's more a character study, and deals with issues like revenge, duty, belonging, justice, etc. Jack Palance in particular wears a weathered military outfit throughout the film, while he carries out what he figures to be the "right" thing to do. One can see the utter hypocrisy in just his simple existence. It's a definitely an interesting and smart film that should appreciated a hell of a lot more than it is.