Burt Lancaster is the multi-millionaire oil magnate "Felix Happer" who despatches one of his minions (Peter Riegert) to Scotland to buy up a village to turn it into an oil refinery. Once he arrives, he is taken for a bit of a ride by the canny locals as they try to milk him for as much cash as they can. In the days before cell phones; he has to call his boss from the phone box reporting his lack of progress and some astronomical sightings until eventually Happer comes over himself and immediately strikes up a rapport with Fulton Mackay who lives on the beach (and who is steadfastly refusing to sell). It is is simple story very well told with a slightly unpredictable, happy ending and a brilliant score from Mark Knopfler.

**Slow, with boring characters and dialogues and a disjointed script, this film does not justify the “hype” around it.** This is one of those indie films that has won over a legion of self-confessed admirers. It's a film that everyone speaks highly of, as if it were a solid masterpiece. I didn't know that when I saw it for the first time, so I saw it without a lot of expectations. I'm glad I did it: despite recognizing some merits, I am convinced that the film has been well overrated. The proof is the way it fell into oblivion! If we exclude fans and movie nerds who know everything (and when they don't, they make it up) who really remembers this movie? The film revolves around a story that is very simple: in the north of Scotland, there is a small bay with a beach and a sleepy village. When a rich oil entrepreneur decides to buy all that to build a huge refinery and a terminal for oil tankers, all those people are expectant, wanting to sell what they have for the best price. Only two people disagree: a marine biologist who want to preserve and study the local, and an old simpleton who owns a good part of that beach. The film had some potential, but it lacks solidity and a good script. Time is spent in sterile dialogue, rambling about comets, constellations and flirting. It is also very unbelievable, as a project like this would never be so consensual, there are always those who oppose it for financial or ecological reasons, or mere nostalgia. If director Bill Forsyth decided to close his eyes to the insipidity and fragility of the script, he was equally inept at using the actors. The cast is good, but he didn't know how to use it. Peter Riegert does what he can, but he has absolutely no charisma and is a forgettable protagonist, who seems more uncomfortable with his character than his character with fieldwork, far from the comforts of the office. Peter Capaldi doesn't do it better, and Jenny Seagrove is just a pretty face here. Fulton Mackay manages to give us something more substantial, but he has little screen time, and the same can be said of poor Burt Lancaster, who is removed from the screen for a good time. A disjointed script, insipid dialogues purposely created to fill up time, characters without strength and ability to captivate us… could there be something in the technical aspects that saves this film? Yes. The cinematography is very good, making the best use of the beauties of the Highlands. The sets and costumes are quite good, and the soundtrack is atmospheric and pleasant. Is it enough to justify the hype around this film and consider it a magnificent and exceptional work? I don't think so.

Bill Forsyth's Local Hero sends an American oil company executive (Peter Riegert) to a remote Scottish coastal village to buy it up for a refinery. What he finds instead is a community that can't quite be bought, locals who negotiate on their own eccentric terms, and a way of life that makes his corporate ambitions seem hollow and absurd. This is gentle, quirky, humanistic filmmaking at its finest. There's no heavy-handed messaging, no villains twirling mustaches; just the quiet revelation that some things matter more than money; that community and a slower life render capitalism's promises useless. Burt Lancaster plays the oil tycoon with surprising warmth, Denis Lawson charms as the innkeeper, and Mark Knopfler's score wraps the whole thing in melancholy beauty. It's a subtle, sardonic comment on what we value and what we've lost, delivered with such affection and humor that you barely notice you're being radicalized against late-stage capitalism. I loved it for the entertainment value, for the pleasure of watching people choose connection over profit, for the reminder that not everything worth having can be purchased.