Hobbesian to the maximum, “Blood Father” is steadily frightful and brutish. It’s likewise short, a blend that essentially gives all of you that you could need from a mash fiction in which Mel Gibson plays a grizzled introvert inking skin in a spot called the Missing Link Tattoo. He’s Link, obviously; first name John.
A previous awful, awful man with a wild whiskers and a profound well of pessimism, John lives in a trailer stopped on one of those pleasantly godforsaken southwestern scenes where John Ford-style homesteaders once orbited the wagons. The fantasy of the Old West passes on hard, particularly in the films.