Whether or not this is supposed to be a comedy or a traditional western is difficult to decipher. Perhaps in somebody's mind the idea of a Western "Road" movie with a Polish Rabbi (Gene Wilder) and a bandit (Harrison Ford) seemed like a winner, but it unfortunately ends up being a western "Ishtar".
With the intention of getting to a synagogue in San Francisco with his promised bride to be waiting (he thinks), Rabbi Wilder (87th in the class of 88) heads across the Atlantic and is hoodwinked out of his cash and prized Torah on his way out of Pennsylvania. The thought of confusing Jewish culture with the Amish had crossed my mind as being somewhat humorous, but here, it is stupid and even rather offensive.
Then, Wilder combines traditional Jewish dances with those of Indians, and the result is tackier than a cauldron of beans being eaten around a camp fire. With only Wilder and Ford having any name recognition (only Ian Wolfe in a cameo as a monk is anybody familiar to veteran film goers), this is a lonely film for familiar faces.
Wilder's bushy hair and wild eyed features seem like he still had make-up on from the black-face sequence in "Silver Streak". At least he is innocent here of any creative input in the film, which was directed by Robert Aldrich, who may be a master of the macabre and melodrama, but someone who knew absolutely nothing about comedy.
With the intention of getting to a synagogue in San Francisco with his promised bride to be waiting (he thinks), Rabbi Wilder (87th in the class of 88) heads across the Atlantic and is hoodwinked out of his cash and prized Torah on his way out of Pennsylvania. The thought of confusing Jewish culture with the Amish had crossed my mind as being somewhat humorous, but here, it is stupid and even rather offensive.
Then, Wilder combines traditional Jewish dances with those of Indians, and the result is tackier than a cauldron of beans being eaten around a camp fire. With only Wilder and Ford having any name recognition (only Ian Wolfe in a cameo as a monk is anybody familiar to veteran film goers), this is a lonely film for familiar faces.
Wilder's bushy hair and wild eyed features seem like he still had make-up on from the black-face sequence in "Silver Streak". At least he is innocent here of any creative input in the film, which was directed by Robert Aldrich, who may be a master of the macabre and melodrama, but someone who knew absolutely nothing about comedy.