Cult Review
Senior Film Conservator

If you have twenty minutes and a soft spot for silent-era slapstick that doesn't care about logic, yeah, watch it. It’s perfect for people who think modern comedies move way too fast. If you get annoyed by characters who make the absolute worst decision at every single turn, skip this and maybe try The Prisoner of Zenda instead.
Ernest Truex is playing the kind of guy who looks like he’s about to vibrate out of his own skin. He’s terrified of this bald process server. The whole movie is just him being neurotic while his hired help—who are surprisingly bad at their jobs—keep grabbing the wrong people.
There is a point where the closet starts to feel like a character of its own. It’s a very small closet. I started counting how many people they managed to stuff in there, and honestly, the physics just don't add up. It’s funny in a way that feels unintentional, like the set dresser just gave up halfway through.
The pacing is… frantic. It feels like everyone involved drank five pots of coffee before the cameras started rolling. There’s no buildup to the panic. Everyone is just screaming and running from the first frame.
It’s not a masterpiece. It doesn't need to be. It’s a goofy, sweaty little relic that reminds me a bit of the frantic energy in White Wings, though with way more furniture-based violence. The acting is all arms and legs, just constant flailing.
I found myself wondering if they actually hurt the actors during the closet scene. People get shoved around with such gusto that you can almost hear the thuds. It’s a weird, charming, slightly exhausting watch. Grab a snack and don’t overthink it. It's just a guy who really, really doesn't want to be served papers. 🤵♂️🚪
Year
1936
IMDb Rating
—

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Deciphering the legacy of transgressive cult cinema.
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