5.2/10
Senior Film Conservator

A definitive 5.2/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Westward Whoa remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you have seven minutes to kill and a soft spot for 1930s animation, sure. It is not a masterpiece, but it’s got that jittery energy you only get from mid-30s Looney Tunes. If you hate old-school rubber-hose animation or find Porky’s stutter grating after a few lines, skip it.
The whole thing feels like a collection of gags thrown into a blender. Porky and his friends are just trying to get a wagon across the frontier. Beans is there, Little Kitty is there, and Ham and Ex are just looking for trouble. They spend half the time doing weird little dances, which is pretty standard for the era, I guess.
The pacing is… well, it doesn't really exist. It’s just one bit after another. Ham and Ex decide it’s hilarious to dress up and mock the local indigenous tribes. It’s a bit jarring to watch now, obviously, but it’s the setup for the inevitable moment when the real threat appears and the joke is suddenly, very loudly, on them.
It reminds me a bit of the frantic energy in The Balloonatic, just with more wagons and less high-altitude danger. It doesn't have the same polish as some of the later studio work, but there’s a raw, frantic quality to it. You can almost see the pencils moving.
The moment the "real" Indians show up, the movie stops being a lighthearted romp and turns into a standard chase. It’s a shame, really. The setup was weird enough that I kind of wanted to see where else it would go. Instead, it just kind of runs out of steam and ends. Typical.
I caught myself staring at the background textures more than the actual characters. Some of those painted prairie hills look surprisingly decent for a 1936 short. Everything else is just… moving parts. It’s fine. It’s just fine. 🤠