Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Buster Keaton's The Cameraman 1928


The Cameraman shows a new maturity for Buster Keaton that should have been a beginning instead of an ending.  After he signed with MGM (which Chaplin and Lloyd had warned him against) for personal and financial reasons, he fought so hard to make the film his own way he was exhausted and never had another chance to improvise and invent his own gags.  He was also unable to convince MGM executives that just because a movie was talking that did not mean it had to be talking all the time.   Like most great comedies The Cameraman is a serious film, about a newsreel cameraman doing whatever is necessary to make the footage look good.  It is also something of a valentine to New York City, where the film was shot.  At one point Keaton goes to an empty Yankee Stadium and mimes fielding, batting, pitching and even umpiring.  There is a ride to Coney Island on a crowded double-decker bus where Keaton sits on the fender so he can talk to the girl he is courting, an amusing attempt to change clothes in a tiny dressing room with another man and a ride home in the rain in a rumble seat.

The last part of the film is poignant and beautiful, as Keaton rescues the girl he is courting from a boat accident when her boyfriend deserts her.  When Keaton rushes off to a drug store the boyfriend claims he rescued the girl and they go off together, with Keaton sinking to his knees on the sand.  Fortunately Keaton’s pet monkey, which he had rescued from an organ-grinder, had kept cranking the camera during the entire incident and the footage ends up with the newsreel company (“best camerawork I have ever seen,” says the boss) and Keaton and the girl are reunited.

As always Keaton does not smile but rather uses his eyes to express emotion, curiosity and determination and he never gives up, no matter how difficult the situation.  At one point the girl calls him on the phone and he runs, as only Keaton can run, across town to her boarding house before she realizes he is no longer on the phone.  My five-year old daughter loved this film for its humor, its beauty and its emotion, without the political content of Chaplin's full-length films (she loves his short films), though I expect she will appreciate those eventually.

No comments:

Post a Comment