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At some stage in 1976 there was a misguided attempt to release this charming feature under the name "Hollywood Cowboy". Post THAT'S ENTERTAINMENT 1974 most studios seemed to flood the market with 30s movie biographies since moviegoers apparently were fascinated with Hollywood's history courtesy of the MGM doco successes.. HEARTS OF THE WEST fits into the release pattern of GABLE AND LOMBARD, W C FIELDS AND ME, DAY OF THE LOCUST, NICKELODEON, and ultimately the horribly unfunny WON TON TON THE DOG THAT SAVED Hollywood and UNDER THE RAINBOW...each and every one about Hollywood in the 1930s. I think they all lost money. However except the last two, all are very good and HEARTS is possibly the most endearing but sadly unseen. The always affable Jeff Bridges proves he was hilarious and watchable even at 25. The Bruce Willis film of the 80s called SUNSET owes a lot to HEARTS. Young guy Jeff in this one, gets to Hollywood attempting to write westerns and ends up in stunt roles in what look like Republic or Monogram oaters. Beautifully made at MGM and well worth finding and delighting friends and family.

What a likable farm galoot Jeff Bridges makes. His Lewis Tater wants to be a Western writer and by golly neither pursuing crooks, nor double-crossing buddies, nor phony correspondence schools are going to stop him. Like his literary alter-ego The Kid, he's just too eager to get discouraged. Across burning deserts and thundering hoofs, he soldiers on toward fame and fortune and Hollywood and Vine.

And what a hoot his purple prose is. Like an amiable Walter Mitty, minor events get spun into major events for "The Kid" in such deathless passages as, "Twirling, The Kid fired with all he had into the phantom riders", or " A Colt in either hand, he scattered lead at the retreating dust."

What a great sleeper movie this is, thanks to the comical Bridges and some unerring light touches. Take for example the cheap Western they're filming. Catch how a groaning Lewis steps on the big romantic clinch, or how his curtain-chewing death throes put the director (Arkin) into a murderous tizzy. But I especially like that awkward little turn on the sidewalk where he brushes against the potted palm and wins the affection of Miss Trout (Danner).

The movie's also a telling look at the making of matinée Westerns, a staple of kids' viewing in the 1930's and 40's. As a former Front Row kid, I viewed those parts with mixed emotions. I guess I still want those guys to be real cowboys and not the shrewd businessmen-actors they likely were.

Anyhow, in my little book, this is a little gem from beginning to end, with scarcely a misstep along the way. It never ceases to amaze me that the Hollywood-bred Bridges (his dad was veteran actor Lloyd Bridges) can play such a convincing hayseed, but he can. Speaking of hayseeds, watch for a very unMayberry Andy Griffith, again showing what a fine, versatile actor he is. I'm just sorry this style of clever low-key comedy has given way to today's frantic bathroom kind. Maybe Hollywood needs to hire more Lewis Tater's, after all.

The plot is a little loose-limbed and meandering but it's an affectionate and amusing look at Povery Row studios, also known as Gower Gulch, that ground out cheap Western movies to be shown as second features. If you've seen a John Wayne Western from the 1930s you'll know what they look like. Wayne, on a white horse, racing after a pick up truck, dashing past the telephone poles, in the Old West.

Jeff Bridges is Lewis Tater, an aspiring writer of Western stories who comes to Hollywood from Iowa armed with a diploma from a phony writing correspondence school. Throughout the movie he is pursued by two villains connected with the scam who want money from him.

Meanwhile, nearly broke, he manages to stumble into a role as an extra in these cheap Westerns made by a studio -- Shoot 'Em Up Productions, or something -- that is run by the penny-pinching Alan Arkin, who gives a splendid performance. Bridges is adequate as the kid consumed by his fantasies. Blythe Danner, with her hoarse voice sometimes ending in a squeak, is skinny, sexy, and grounded. Andy Griffith is fine as the extra who acts as Bridges' mentor and who is later revealed as a fraud who tries to steal the manuscript of Bridges' Western novel.

Except for the two stereotypical villains -- Richard Schull and Anthony James -- who are mostly comic figures, it's hard to dislike any character in this fey atmosphere. It's 1933 and the location shooting and set dressing make Los Angeles far more attractive than it is today, now that it is a tangled snare of freeways with colorless settlements in between them. The musical score uses a lot of source music -- cheerfully and not in-your-face obvious. The sun seems to be shining all the way through, even when it's raining. It's charming when the disingenuous Bridges stands on the beach of a rich producer's house, gazes Westward, and remarks in awe to himself -- "The vast Pacific."

"Hearts of the West" is not a great film...but it is interesting and fun. And it looks nothing like any other film I've seen!

The story begins in the Midwest in the early 1930s. Lewis Tater (Jeff Bridges) is an incredibly naive and dim young man who wants to write western novels. So he does what any naive person would do in this situation...he enrolls in a correspondence school for western fiction writers! It is hard to imagine such a specific program could exist...and it's not surprising that it's all a scam. But as I said, he is naive and dim and decides to travel to Nevada to see the school in person...and it turns out to be just a mailbox. But he does end up meeting with the two scumbags behind the scam...and they turn out to be very violent jerks who chase him into the desert. In the process, Tater wanders onto a movie shoot...with cowboys! Where does it go from there? See the film and find out for yourself.

The film is light and enjoyable...and not especially believable. But as I said, it's enjoyable and a nice homage to the B-westerns of the era.

In "Hearts of the West" Jeff Bridges is an aspiring western pulp-novel writer. He worships Zane Grey and lands what is for him a fantasy-come-true job as a stunt man in Hollywood B-westerns in the 1930s. There he works with a crew of losers under Alan Arkin.

Bridges has some good comic stunts and spends much of the time eluding con-men pursuers. Andy Griffith all but steals the show as a wily former star who first befriends him and then cheats him. Blythe Danner is good as the female production manager who takes a liking to Bridges. Howard Zieff, recalled for his "Slither," directed this very likable piece.