Spurs (1930) is a clunky, weird Western that only Hoot Gibson fans will love

You should probably only watch Spurs if you have already seen every other Western ever made or if you have a specific obsession with how 1930s cowboys wore their pants. It is definitely for the Hoot Gibson completionists.

If you are looking for a tight plot or something that makes sense, you will probably hate this. It’s a movie that doesn't really know if it wants to be a murder mystery or a sports highlight reel for horse riding.

Hoot Gibson plays Bob Merril. He’s got that classic, slightly goofy grin that makes you feel like he’s in on the joke. He is trying to find the guy who killed Buddy’s father, which sounds like a heavy, serious setup for a revenge flick.

Early on, Bob finds the "secret entrance" to the villain's hideout. I put that in quotes because it looks about as secret as a front porch. 🌵

He catches a guy named Indian Joe. Joe confesses that a guy named Marsdan is the actual killer. This should be the part where the movie gets intense and the walls close in on the bad guys.

Instead, Bob decides this is the perfect time to go ride in a rodeo. A rodeo.

He just leaves his star witness behind. It is one of those moments where you want to reach into the screen and shake the main character by his massive lapels.

The rodeo scenes feel like they belong in a completely different film. It's like the director, B. Reeves Eason, just had some footage of horses and figured he might as well use it. It goes on for a long time. Too long.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Spurs (1930) through its definitive frames.

You can almost hear the gears of the plot grinding to a halt while we watch guys fall off horses. It’s not that the riding is bad, it’s just that there is a murderer on the loose and our hero is out here trying to win a trophy.

Predictably, while Bob is busy showing off, Indian Joe escapes. You don't say! It’s the kind of logic that only exists in these early B-movies where the runtime needs to be padded out to hit the hour mark.

The sound quality is pretty rough, even for 1930. You can tell they were still figuring out where to hide the microphones on the set. Sometimes a character will stand perfectly still and shout their lines at a nearby cactus, and you just know there’s a mic buried in the dirt right there.

Compared to something like Davy Crockett, this feels much more like a relic. It doesn't have that same sense of adventure that actually lands.

There is a kid in this, Buddy Hunter, who plays the son of the murdered man. He’s fine, I guess. He mostly just stands around looking sad or impressed by Hoot.

I did like the way the horses look in this. They aren't the polished, movie-star horses you see in later films. They look like actual working animals that spend a lot of time in the dust.

The villain, Marsdan, played by Philo McCullough, is your standard mustache-twirling type. He doesn't have much to do other than look guilty and wait for the plot to catch up with him again.

There’s a strange lack of urgency to the whole thing. Even the climax feels a bit like everyone is tired and wants to go home. It’s a very leisurely hunt for a killer.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Spurs (1930) through its definitive frames.

If you’ve seen Fighting Bill, you know these movies can sometimes have a bit more bite. This one is more like a gentle gumming.

The script by B. Reeves Eason is pretty thin. I think he was more interested in the stunts than the dialogue. Which is fair, because the dialogue is mostly just people explaining things that we just saw happen on screen.

One reaction shot of Hoot Gibson lasts so long I thought the film had jammed in the projector. He just stares. For a while. It’s kind of funny if you’re in the right mood.

The whole "secret hideout" thing is never really satisfying. It’s just a place where guys in hats sit around and wait to be arrested.

It’s not as stiff as Station Content, but it’s definitely not a masterpiece. It’s just... a Hoot Gibson movie.

I wouldn't call it a waste of time if you like the era. There is something comforting about these old black-and-white Westerns where you know exactly who the hero is because he’s the one with the biggest hat and the cleanest shirt.

But man, that rodeo detour is just baffling. It’s like stopping a heist movie in the middle so the lead character can go enter a bake-off.

Anyway, it ends exactly how you think it ends. No surprises here. 🐎

A few things I noticed:

• The way they handle the "Indian Joe" character is... very much of its time. Not great.
• Hoot Gibson’s horse is actually a better actor than a couple of the humans.
• The dust. There is so much dust in every shot. I felt like I needed to sneeze just watching it.
• The "action" scenes are mostly just people riding fast in a circle.

It’s an okay way to spend an hour if you’re doing laundry. Otherwise, maybe skip it and watch Strange Cargo instead for something with a bit more meat on its bones.

Actually, I take that back. If you want to see what a rodeo looked like in 1930, this is probably the best historical document you’re going to find. Just don't expect a thrilling story to go with it.