All but the youngest Americans are probably familiar with the iconic call of "Laaaaaa-sie!" from little Timmy, or whatever the kid's name was, wailing his little tow-head off for his border collie friend. These same Americans may or may not be familiar with the fact that Lassie made the leap from television to movies (or was it the other way around? I'm clearly too lazy to do any research here), and The Painted Hills is one of those. It is irresistible to make a "this movie has gone to the dogs!" pun, so I won't (even though I technically just did). But in a way, it has. Lassie (playing Shep, man's best friend) gets top billing. THE DOG GETS TOP BILLING. Now, I'm not familiar with how actors or their agents negotiate contracts, but here's how it plays out in my mind: <br /><br />MOVIE MOGUL: Okay, Lassie, in the credits, it's gonna be, "and with Lassie as Shep!" LASSIE: Rrrrowf! Grrrrrrr. MOVIE MOGUL: Ha, ha, kid, calm down, calm down! LASSIE: Rrroo rrrrooo roooo. MOVIE MOGUL: Okay, I think I see. Co-lead billing? LASSIE: Rawrf! Rawrrrrff rawrf! MOVIE MOGUL: Oh God! Let go of my arm! Top billing! Top billing for you, now let go of my arm!!! <br /><br />So, the dog gets top billing, and with the rest of this shell-shocked cast, I suppose it's understandable. We get lovable old grumpus Jonathan the prospector, his young, whiny and apparently orphaned friend Tommy, sketchy loser Lin Taylor, and lovable old religious grumpus Pilot Pete. The meat of the plot here could be summed up in a few sentences, so I'll save you the actual pain of watching the movie. Jonathan is a prospector with a dog named Shep, and his partner dies while he is at his claim. He gets a new partner named Lin who becomes obsessed with the gold, and Jonathan for some reason gives Shep to whiny little crybaby Tommy. Lin kills Jonathan, Shep sees it, and Lin tries to kill Shep. Then Lin tries to kill Tommy. Then Tommy whines, it gets cold, and Shep carries out an elaborate plan to get revenge on Lin, which he (or she?) does. The end.<br /><br />Unless you have a deep, unsettling need to see a Lassie movie (even then, there's got to be a better Lassie movie than this), just avoid The Painted Hills. When it's not dragging on, marveling at Lassie's limited ability to 'act' (similar in style, perhaps, to Keanu Reeves - always the same facial expression, only the body moves), setting up the obvious using several minutes of film, or insulting Native Americans everywhere with its white-actor-in-facepaint "Ugh! How! Me Running Bear!" stereotypes, The Painted Hills is fit only for Lassie fetishists or people who have some kind of connection to prospecting through their days as a grizzled old prospector lookin' fer that consarned vein of glittery gold!