Johnny Crawford is the eponymous young man who is living in early 1970s urban America but longs for the days of the wild west. His home is a virtual shrine to all things Gary Cooper and Jimmy Stewart. He's behind with his rent and when his laconic attitude costs him his job, things don't look so great - he can't even get a drink! He decides to go and chat up a girl who has done a drawing of a cowboy - but his enthusiastic regaling of the styles of hat worn by John Wayne doesn't quite cut her mustard. It's quite quirky for about five minutes, and anyone who's a fan of the western genre might be able to appreciate just how "Billy" could have become subsumed - he even walks like the "Duke" while chewing on his toothpick. The thing about this is that once those five minutes have established the premiss the story just doesn't really go anywhere. He yearns for his fantasy world that cannot come true - or can it? It's an interesting fish-out-of-water story for a while, but I though it rather petered out.

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