Peter Fonda is so intentionally enervated as an actor that his lachrymose line-readings cancel out any irony or humor in the dialogue. He trades sassy barbs and non-witty repartee with Brooke Shields as if he were a wooden block with receding hair; even his smaller touches (like fingering a non-existent mustache on his grizzled face) don't reveal a character so much as an unsure actor being directed by himself, an unsure filmmaker. In the Southwest circa 1950, a poor gambler (not above a little cheating) wins an orphaned, would-be teen Lolita in a botched poker game; after getting hold of a treasure map promising gold in the Grand Canyon, the bickering twosome become prospectors. Some lovely vistas, and an odd but interesting cameo by Henry Fonda as a grizzled canyon man, are the sole compensations in fatigued comedy-drama, with the two leads being trailed by cartoonish killers who will stop at nothing until they get their hands on that map. Shields is very pretty, but--although the camera loves her pouty, glossy beauty--she has no screen presence (and her tinny voice has no range whatsoever); every time she opens her mouth, one is inclined to either cringe or duck. *1/2 from ****