It will be the nostalgia talking – it is always the nostalgia talking. Turning 30 years old this year, Hollywood action comedy The Cowboy Way is a rudimentary fish-out-of-water tale about two rodeo-riding, culturally ignorant horse riders from New Mexico following a troubled friend to New York City and becoming involved with human trafficking gangsters. It is not a good film: audiences and critics didn’t think so in 1994, and I doubt time has changed anyone’s minds. That noted, I cannot deny enjoying the film when I watched it. I think that tells me more about the state of mainstream Hollywood today than anything about The Cowboy Way.

Kiefer Sutherland and Woody Harrelson play Sonny Gilstrap and Pepper Lewis, champion rodeo riders who became estranged when Pepper failed to turn up to a critical championship. Sonny is level-headed and serious. Pepper is foolish, naïve, and impulsive. Both actors play in very familiar territory: Sutherland plays things straight like his then-recent Young Guns pictures, while Harrelson comes to his role from eight years playing the equally dim-witted Woody Boyd in Cheers.

The supporting cast varies from Ernie Hudson – always amiable – to Dylan McDermott – horribly miscast as a sadistic crime boss. The script by Rob Thompson is by-the-numbers are predictable. Gregg Champion directs the picture serviceably but without significant invention. Everything adds up to something watchable, but unexceptional. Certainly I think the critics of 1994 were a little unfair on The Cowboy Way. It is overly familiar and uninventive, but it does what it aims to do and never embarrasses itself.

So why does it feel so watchable in 2024? I think part of it is that the film works as comfort viewing. The story and characters are simple. Harrelson specifically is rather enjoyable. There are no surprises to the story. Viewing the film does not require active effort.

From logo to logo the film runs a modest 107 minutes. It does not outstay its welcome, or get bogged down in subplots or unnecessary comedy ‘bits’. The average length of a film in the 2020s is something in the region of 130 minutes. Wicked, which adapts half of a stage musical, runs for 160.

The Cowboy Way is not a remake. It is not a reimagining, nor is it a sequel, prequel, side story, or introduction to a shared universe. It was not adapted from a television series or videogame.

It is not a $250 million dollar visual effects juggernaut. It is not based on a comic book. It was not released in 3D. At the same time, it is not an edgy independent film made on a shoestring with hot young talent having to prove themselves on the festival circuit.

It is no secret than in the evolution of cinema during the 21st century the middle ground of filmmaking has been lost. The schedule has divided into the biggest of the big and the smallest of the small, and much of that space in the middle has been uncomfortably stretched to multiple episodes of a single-season serial on a streaming service – typically whatever one to which you don’t personally subscribe.

This is essentially where I came in, because despite its faults – and there are many – and its merits – there are almost none – I found myself having a good time with The Cowboy Way. It is the nostalgia talking. It is just a movie, but to be honest we do not really get many of them any more.