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Cult Review
Senior Film Conservator
If you're looking for something that demands a lot of your brain, look elsewhere. Stung Again is for the crowd who just wants to see people trip over furniture and yell at each other for twenty minutes. If you hate old-fashioned slapstick, you’re going to be reaching for the off button before the first act finishes.
It’s a loud, frantic little movie. Louise Fazenda is doing a lot of the heavy lifting here, and honestly, she’s the only reason this thing doesn't just fall apart into total static. She has this way of looking at the camera that makes you think she knows the script is a bit of a mess.
The pacing is… well, it’s just fast. There’s almost no room to breathe between the shouting matches. It reminds me a bit of the frantic energy in Cracked Ice, where the logic of the scene is less important than how quickly the actors can move across the room.
There’s this one sequence with a door that goes on for way too long. Bert Roach keeps walking in and out, and the timing is just slightly off. It’s not graceful, but it’s human. You can tell they were trying to land a joke that just didn't quite stick, but they kept going anyway. It’s actually kind of charming in a weird way.
Sometimes I wonder if they just improvised the whole thing in an afternoon. It feels like someone said, "Okay, run in, knock over that vase, then look confused." And then they just rolled the camera. It lacks the polish you see in something like Tol'able David, but it’s not trying to be that, is it?
It’s the kind of movie that reminds me of Pep in how it just refuses to slow down. If you stop to think about the plot, you lose. Just watch the faces. They’re doing all the work anyway. 🐝
It’s not a masterpiece. It’s barely a movie, really. But it’s got a pulse, and that counts for something in a sea of dusty old reels.
Year
1933
IMDb Rating
—
Editorial
Deciphering the legacy of transgressive cult cinema.
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