Renegade (1987)

Renegade is the kind of breezy, crowd-pleasing adventure that knows exactly what it is: a modern-day western with dust on its boots, a grin on its face, and Terence Hill gliding through danger with that effortless, mischievous charm he does better than almost anyone. The movie’s real pleasure is its buddy dynamic—an unlikely partnership forged on the road—where scrappy action beats, comic scuffles, and wide-open Americana vibes keep the pace light even when the stakes rise. Enzo Barboni stages the set pieces with a playful confidence, mixing Jeep chases, barroom bravado, and outlaw shenanigans into something that feels like a Saturday matinee you didn’t know you missed. If you want gritty realism, this isn’t your stop, but if you’re in the mood for a warm, punchy, old-school romp with heart, Renegade earns its title the fun way.

Renegade is trying to mash up a modern-day Western road movie with Terence Hill’s easygoing slapstick charm, tossing in bikers, bad guys in suits, and a kid sidekick for a “found family” vibe. The problem is the tone bounces between goofy comedy and half-serious revenge/business-conspiracy plotting, so if you want tight action or a truly funny comedy, it can feel like it’s coasting on charm rather than delivering. The pacing is loose and episodic, with set pieces that play more like TV adventure detours than a story that builds real momentum. That said, Hill’s relaxed charisma and the PG, low-stakes violence make it a decent pick if you’re in the mood for a lightweight, old-school, Sunday-afternoon crowd-pleaser—and a bad pick if you’re expecting grit, suspense, or sharp laughs.