Two friends spend a mini-series prospectin in the marrow-deep cold of the Upper Yukon. It takes mettle to find metal, comes the obvious theme indeed, an avalanche hits before the opening credits. By Dawson City, theyre beset by every hoary cliché: claim jumpers, pouty whores, gnomic natives, and that scene where the hero sips hooch and splutters. More Disney than Deadwood.
Klondike Review
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