This was a labor of love for Robert Duvall, who's been trying to get it made for 15 years and finally used his own money to do it. He wrote, directed, and starred in the film, and the good news is that he gives his greatest performance in a lifetime of great performances (and his writing and directing is pretty good, too). He truly inhabits the role of Sonny, aka the Apostle E.F., a devout Holy Roller minister in Texas who seems able to save everyone but himself. His marriage and ministry fall apart (due in no small part to his own sins), and he takes to the road to escape the consequences.
The problem is, I have no common frame of reference with the Holy Rollers who inhabit this film -- the kindest reaction I can have to them is utter bemusement (a lot of this movie reminded me of the televangelists I see on "God Stuff" on the Daily Show). I actively avoid these people in real life -- if I'm going to spend 2 hours in a theater with them, there'd better be some payoff. And there's not. The most disappointing aspect is that the redemption the movie seems to be building up to never happens (or maybe it happens too subtly for my Hollywood-bludgeoned brain). Sonny is an intriguing character -- loving and benevolent to total strangers, fiercely protective of his flock, yet a right bastard to his wife. This contradiction is never explored, however -- it's just there. I never made an emotional connection to Sonny or to the film, so while the movie is, for the most part, an enjoyable, well-made slice of a life I hope to never lead, I walked out of the theater feeling cheated. Though there were people crying at the end, so maybe it's just my "hard-hearted, callous atheist" self, as Sonny would call it.
So, I guess I would say go see it for Duvall's sensational performance... just don't get your hopes up that the story will actually end up somewhere.
CLOSING RANT: I expected this audience to be more considerate than your usual multiplex crowd (there's a benefit to the high ticket price, the requirement to reserve in advance, and the early-Sunday-morning time), and by and large it was... with the exception, of course, of the woman sitting next to me. First of all, even though there were FIVE empty seats next to me, she demanded that I move my belongings from the seat RIGHT next to me so she could sit RIGHT THERE, thereby forcing me to put my purse on the sticky floor and cram my coat and sweatshirt in a very uncomfortable spot behind my back, all the while balancing a cup of scalding coffee and a bagel. Then she turned out to be one of those simpletons who "awwwww"s at every child, says "Oh, that's funny" after every joke, and gasps "oh no!" at the first sign of menace -- in short, reponds to the subtlest emotional signal with Pavlovian slavishness (not to mention Pavarottian volume). I'm going to start bringing earplugs to the movies.
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