“I need a drink,” offers a character (who shall remain nameless to avoid spoilers) as the final line of “Dead for a Dollar,” director Walter Hill’s return to the Western.
It’s a note of exasperation, not triumph, following the genre’s inevitable shootout. And the line is perhaps the only way to end a film whose primary function is to strip away the trappings of myth from the West and leave behind only people performing a job.
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