There has been a substantial amount of talk around town of late about running the clock back to the so-called golden age of America when working stiffs had a chance to get ahead in the 1950s. Of course not all boats rose at that time, especially among blacks and white Appalachian hillbillies like my family who never even got close to the boat, but we will let that ride for now. If one really wanted to look at something like latter day Eden in the American experience then perhaps one needed to go West, go out to Big Sky country where they took their religion, their work ethic and their, uh, fly-fishing seriously in the early part of the twentieth century if the plot-line of this film under review Robert Redfords adaptation (and narration) of Norman Macleans memoir A River Runs Through It.