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6.9/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 6.9/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Southern Exposure remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
Honestly, only if you're a completist for these kinds of dusty shorts. If you hate dated stereotypes or plots that pivot into nonsense without warning, skip it.
It’s a bizarre little relic. It feels like someone had a script for a drama and then decided halfway through that everyone should just start dancing.
Connie and Charley arrive in Kentucky expecting aristocratic cousins. Instead, they find people who clearly haven't worn shoes since the turn of the century. It’s that brand of 1930s 'hick' humor that aged like milk left out on a radiator. Seriously, the jokes about the locals are so tired you can almost hear the actors sighing through their lines.
Charley Chase plays a double role here. He’s the city lawyer and the mountain patriarch, Pappy. Watching him talk to himself is... well, it’s a choice. It reminds me of the chaotic energy in
The whole middle section is just legal fluff. A lady named Lavinia is suing Pappy for backing out of a wedding promise. I don’t know why, but the way the judge handles the gavel is funnier than any of the actual dialogue. Then, the movie just gives up. The courtroom turns into a dance floor. Just like that. No explanation. It’s like the director realized the plot was going nowhere and decided a square dance was the only way to get the credits to roll faster. It’s jarring, weird, and kind of hypnotic in its stupidity. This isn't a masterpiece. It isn't even a particularly good short. It’s just... there. It exists in the same weird space as The Courtroom Thing