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6.2/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 6.2/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. The Fighting Parson remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you like your westerns with a side of historical fuzz and a plot that moves at the speed of a tired horse, maybe. If you’re looking for high-stakes drama, you’re going to be bored out of your mind. It’s mostly for people who get a kick out of how weirdly low-budget 1930s B-movies can get.
Hoot Gibson is the Fighting Parson, or at least he’s pretending to be. It’s a classic setup—stolen clothes, wrong identity, a town full of people who don't like strangers. The whole thing feels like it was put together over a weekend lunch break.
The pacing is honestly all over the place. One minute we’re running from a posse, the next we’re walking into a hanging that feels like it’s happening in a library. Nobody looks particularly stressed about the rope, which is a choice, I guess. 🤠
There’s a moment where he rides into town and tries to look pious. He fails. It’s actually kind of funny in a 'this actor is doing his best' sort of way. You can almost see the gears turning in his head trying to remember his lines.
If you’ve seen Running Wild, you know how these silent-era transitions into sound often lose a bit of the punch. This movie doesn't really know if it wants to be a gritty outlaw story or a light Sunday morning sermon. It ends up being neither.
It’s not a masterpiece. It’s barely a movie sometimes. But there’s something honest about how it just keeps chugging along despite the obvious lack of, well, everything. Budget, polish, logic—who needs 'em?
Watch it if you want to see what 1933 looked like when they weren't trying to change the world. Don't expect to remember much of it by tomorrow morning. It’s just there, hanging out in the archive.