5.7/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 5.7/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Pals of the West remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you have a soft spot for grainy, black-and-white horse operas where the plot is thinner than a piece of parchment, then sure. It’s a breezy watch for a rainy afternoon. If you need complex character arcs or dialogue that doesn't sound like it was written on a napkin during lunch, you’re gonna have a bad time.
Watching Pals of the West feels like digging through a shoebox of old Polaroids. Everything is a little fuzzy around the edges.
There is this moment where Hal Taliaferro—who is fine, I guess—tries to look tough while leaning against a fence. He just looks like he’s waiting for a bus that’s never coming. It’s that kind of movie. The pacing is weirdly stop-and-go, mostly because they had to make room for all the riding around.
Speaking of horses, Silver King gets more screen time than some of the human actors. I’m not even mad about that.
Yakima Canutt shows up as the bad guy, and honestly, he’s the only one who looks like he’s actually having fun. He carries the weight of the scenes whenever he’s on camera. The rest of the cast seems a bit preoccupied with just trying not to trip over their own spurs.
It’s not trying to be Forsaking All Others, and that’s a good thing. It’s just a standard, no-frills western. It’s got that same dusty charm you find in The Mystery Man, even if the stakes here feel a lot lower.
I kept waiting for a big twist, but the movie isn't interested in that. It just wants to get the Rangers into the hideout and get the girl out. It does that, and then it ends. It’s kind of nice, actually, not having to worry about a convoluted subplot.
Sometimes you just need a movie that doesn't demand anything from your brain. Pals of the West is exactly that. It’s a relic, really. A very dusty, very simple, and slightly clumsy relic. 🤠
