The Cheyenne Kid: A dusty, confused little Western

Is it worth the watch?

If you’re the kind of person who enjoys a rainy Sunday afternoon with a grainy, black-and-white western playing in the background, you’ll probably find something to like here. It’s short, it’s punchy, and it doesn’t overstay its welcome. If you need logic or complex character arcs to stay awake, skip it. This is pure 1933 factory-floor filmmaking.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of The Cheyenne Kid (1933) through its definitive frames.

The whole mess kicks off because someone shoots Tom Larkin’s horse. Honestly, that was the most upsetting part of the first act. Once he’s on foot, the movie just kind of rolls along like a tumbleweed in a stiff breeze. He gets a new horse, gets mistaken for an outlaw, and suddenly he’s holding a contract to kill a guy he’s never met. It’s the kind of convoluted setup that makes you wonder if anyone actually read the script before the cameras started rolling.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of The Cheyenne Kid (1933) through its definitive frames.

Tom Keene plays Larkin with that weirdly specific stoicism that every cowboy actor in the 30s had to master. He spends a lot of time squinting at the horizon. Sometimes it feels like he’s looking for the bad guy, and other times it feels like he’s looking for the catering truck.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of The Cheyenne Kid (1933) through its definitive frames.

Small things that stuck out:

• The horse, Pinto, probably deserves top billing. He’s the only one who looks like he knows what he’s doing.
• There’s a fight scene that lasts about three seconds too long where two guys are just wrestling in the dirt while looking completely bored.
• The townspeople are so quick to assume the new guy in town is a murderer. They really need to work on their vetting process.

It reminds me a bit of the pacing issues I had with King's Creek Law, where the geography of the set seems to change depending on which way the camera is facing. One minute they’re in a dense thicket, the next they’re standing on a perfectly flat prairie with zero cover. It’s like the actors are just wandering between scenes until someone yells 'action.'

The dialogue is mostly just people telling each other what they’re about to do, which is fine, I guess. I’m not asking for Shakespeare here. But the way they handle the 'stolen money' plot point is hilarious. It’s mentioned every ten minutes like they’re worried we’ll forget why the movie started. We didn't forget, folks.

It’s not as chaotic as Hearts and Fists, but it’s got that same 'get it in the can by Friday' energy. It’s definitely a B-movie through and through, complete with the occasional shadow of a boom mic and some very questionable riding skills. Don’t go in expecting a masterpiece. Go in expecting a horse, a gun, and a guy who really needs to find his wallet. 🤠