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6.8/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 6.8/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. No More West remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
Honestly, only if you're a completist for 1930s shorts or just have a weird thing for Bert Lahr's mugging. If you're looking for a coherent Western, look elsewhere. People who hate movies that feel like a collection of random ideas stitched together with dental floss will probably want to skip this one entirely.
The whole thing starts in a New York shooting gallery. It’s tight, cramped, and weirdly loud for a black-and-white short. Lahr is doing his thing—the faces, the nervous energy—but the pacing is all over the place. One minute he's capturing robbers, the next he’s on a train heading out West like he’s running from his own shadow.
Once we get out West, the movie loses its mind. It’s like the writers realized they had ten minutes left and just threw a bank robbery into the script. The guys who tricked him are the same ones from the beginning, but the logic? Yeah, there isn't any. It makes the shifts in Quick Millions seem almost elegant by comparison.
There's this one moment where Lahr is trying to look tough, and he just looks confused. It's honestly the most honest part of the whole film. The supporting cast—The Rhythm Boys and the rest—seem like they’re in a different movie half the time. It’s like they wandered onto the set by accident.
I caught myself checking the clock around the halfway mark. It’s not that it’s boring, it’s just that it feels like a fever dream of a western. It reminds me a bit of the chaotic energy in The Happy Hottentots, but with less focus. You can tell they were trying to squeeze every bit of comedy out of Lahr, but the plot keeps getting in his way.
It’s not a classic. It’s barely a footnote. But for a few minutes, seeing Lahr try to navigate this disaster is worth the price of admission if you're already in the mood for something dusty and disorganized. 🤠