West of Hot Dog

The opening sequence of this two-reel comedy will strike a familiar chord for Laurel & Hardy fans: we find Stan, still working solo at this point, looking dapper but decidedly out of place in the Wild West as he rides in a stagecoach, alongside an attractive young woman. We soon learn that he's traveling to the town of Hot Dog to collect an inheritance from a recently deceased relative; and we're reminded of Stan and Ollie, wearing their tenderfoot derbies and tailcoats, traveling out to Brushwood Gulch to deliver a deed to Mary Roberts. It's a dozen years 'til Way Out West, and unlike that film West of Hot Dog is no classic, but this modest effort does have its moments, and for latter-day viewers may suggest a dress rehearsal of sorts for the 1937 gem Stan would make with Babe Hardy.

The stagecoach in which our hero is riding is robbed by outlaws while Stan, no hero after all, struggles to keep his pants up and is generally ineffectual. His fellow passenger (i.e. the lady) is disgusted with his cowardice, and gives him the cold shoulder when they meet later in the town of Hot Dog. But Stan has other things on his mind: he has learned during a visit to a lawyer's office that he is but one of three heirs to the estate, and, as it happens, the other two claimants are the guys who held up the stagecoach! Stan is the primary heir, but if he should die then the estate will be split between the others. (Sounds like Set-Up City, doesn't it?) In the film's most memorable bit, the other two guys attempt to eliminate their rival by simply flinging him out the window of the lawyer's office. Three times in succession we see Stan hurled out the second floor window to the ground below. No, we actually see a dummy repeatedly hurled out the window, at which point a groggy-looking Stan takes its place on the ground thanks to elementary camera trickery, but the trick is smoothly accomplished and the sequence earns its laughs.

Instead of wasting any more time attempting to kill Stan, who appears to be indestructible, the bad guys join up with a larger gang and rob the saloon, then head for a remote hideout. Stan, coincidentally, heads for the very same place, where the bad guys attempt to finish him off. Things get rather macabre in the finale, for one by one the outlaws somehow manage to shoot each other while Stan emerges unscratched. (A lot of the comedy here is pretty dark: in an earlier sequence in the saloon, a man killed a card game dispute is briskly dumped through a trap-door, in business borrowed from the Roscoe Arbuckle/Buster Keaton comedy Out West.) Eventually, the townspeople come to believe that Stan is a hero merely because he survived the massacre in the hideout, and the young lady from the stage coach—who turns out to be the sheriff's daughter—is suddenly interested in him. But Stan, now playing the Strong Silent Type who rides alone, strikes a tragic posture and asserts his independence . . . just in time for a closing gag that makes him look foolish again.

As this summary should indicate, West of Hot Dog is a cartoon-y silent comedy with all the dramatic heft of the average Ben Turpin two- reeler, but that's not a put-down. It's the cinematic equivalent of a Popsicle, and nothing's wrong with that on a hot summer afternoon. This outing actually holds up better than a number of Laurel's other solo efforts: there's a steady supply of gags and a coherent (if silly) plot, while Stan's own characterization is more appealing than it was in some of his other vehicles. Viewers interested in tracing the development of this great comic talent should definitely give it a look.

Another early Stan Laurel short that provides us with only fitful glimpses of the natural comic talent he possessed, this one features him as a greenhorn in the wild west who finds himself at the end of Bad Mike's pistol. There's nothing particularly original about the story or the gags here, and you get the distinct impression that everybody involved was simply making it up as they went along (which wasn't out of the ordinary back in Hollywood's early days). Much is made of Stan's slight stature and his effeminate ways, but his habit of being frightened by everything is very one-note and quickly starts to wear thin.

This is quite a funny short, in which Stan travels to the wild west. It includes good comedy acting by Stan, especially during the hold-up scene at the start, probably the funniest scene in the movie. The shoot-out scene is well constructed, and works well. This is one of many parodies Stan made for Joe Rock during 1924-1925, before joining Hal Roach. The film will appeal to fans of Stan Laurel, and people who generally like silent comedy.

Stan arrives in the wild west, no place for a timid, mild mannered man! He's inherited a saloon from his uncle, unless he dies in which case it goes to his two cousins! It's not a bad film at all, I've only seen a few of Stan Laurel's comedies before he teamed up with Ollie but they are quite good and this one deserves a looking at if you're into the silent stuff. I'd give this one 7/10.

Before Stan Laurel became the smaller half of the all-time greatest comedy team, he laboured under contract to Broncho Billy Anderson in a series of cheapies, many of which were parodies of major Hollywood features. Following a dispute with Anderson, Laurel continued the informal series of parodies at Joe Rock's smaller (and more indigent) production company.

Most of Laurel's parody films were only mildly funny at the time, and even less funny for modern audiences who haven't seen the original movie which Laurel is parodying. 'West of Hot Dog' is a fairly generic parody of cowboy shoot-'em-ups. It's marginally a specific parody of 'West of the Pecos', an oater released two years earlier with no major actors. Since 'West of the Pecos' was never a huge success, it's difficult to see why Stan's film unit chose this particular movie as a target for their lampoonery, much less why they waited so long after its release to parody it. And where did they get that title 'West of Hot Dog'? Possibly it's down to the fact that 'Hot dog!' was a sexual interjection favoured by American lechers in the 1920s. (As in the opening scene of the stage play 'Machinal'.)

'West of Hot Dog' was produced and co-directed by Joe Rock. Among his many other achievements, Rock introduced Laurel to Lois Neilson, and he was subsequently best man at their wedding. Full disclosure: In the last years of his life, I had the great privilege of befriending Joe Rock and interviewing him. Nearly ninety years old at the time, Rock's memory was impressively clear ... but he remembered nothing at all about 'West of Hot Dog', and I can't blame him. This movie is eminently forgettable.

The leading lady's character is named Little Mustard: If that's meant to be a parody of something in 'West of the Pecos', I don't get it. There are a couple of 'impossible' gags here, including Laurel's method for mounting a horse. For just one moment in this movie, Stan Laurel reminded me of the great Buster Keaton when he suddenly broke into a run. 'West of Hot Dog' is vaguely similar in subject matter and tone to Keaton's short comedy 'The Frozen North', but Keaton's version is much funnier. The plot of this film somewhat anticipates a situation in Keaton's feature 'Our Hospitality' but (again) suffers by comparison: here, two tough varmint brothers expect to inherit the Last Chance Saloon, but the previous owner has bequeathed it to weakling tenderfoot Stan. However, the brothers will become the legal heirs if Stan dies. Hmmm...

Seriously, though: is such a bequest legal? As soon as Stan takes possession of the property, surely any further questions of ownership or inheritance become his decision, not the previous owner's decision. I had plenty of time to consider such points of law while watching this dull comedy.

At one point, a gag involves some crude animation drawn directly onto the film stock. It looks cheap and isn't funny.

This 'Hot Dog' is no weiner, and no winner: it's just a whiner. My rating: one point out of 10. Hang on, Stan: in a few more years you'll be one-half of a comedy legend.