Cult Review
Senior Film Conservator

Honestly, only if you have a real soft spot for old-school vaudeville-style comedy. If you get annoyed by people mugging for the camera or characters acting like they’ve had ten cups of coffee, you’ll probably want to turn this off within five minutes.
It’s not a masterpiece, but it sure is loud.
Buster West is basically a human rubber band in this. He moves in these sharp, twitchy bursts that made me feel tired just watching him. There is a scene about halfway through where he tries to navigate a room full of furniture that just… doesn't stop. It goes on for about 40 seconds too long, and by the end, you’re just waiting for him to finally trip over the rug.
It reminds me a bit of the frantic energy in Habeas Corpus, though maybe a bit less focused. Not that focus was high on the priority list here.
The dialogue is mostly just an excuse to get to the next physical gag. Tom Patricola is in here too, and he’s clearly doing his own thing entirely. Sometimes it works! Other times it feels like he’s in a different movie than everyone else.
It’s not as tightly wound as (Smile, Buttercup, Smile), but it has a weird, jagged charm. You can almost feel the director trying to push the pacing faster than the film stock could handle. It’s messy, it’s frantic, and it doesn't care if you keep up. 🤡
Sometimes the movie gets noticeably better when it stops trying to tell a story and just lets the guys stumble around for a while. It’s a thin premise, but they stretch it until it almost snaps. I didn't hate it. I didn't love it. I just watched it.
Year
1935
IMDb Rating
—

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Deciphering the legacy of transgressive cult cinema.
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