Dan Navarro's Movie Reviews

Buster Keaton was the most silent of silent film stars. Pulitzer winner James Agee described Keaton as "The Great Stone Face," partly for his eternally expressionless face, but also for his consistently muted response to the chaos that often surrounded him. It may seem impossible that anyone with such a wooden demeanor could produce so much as a single comedic scene, let alone a treasure trove of the finest comedies ever made; yet that's what he did.

Keaton began his movie career in 1917, appearing alongside established star Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle, but was such a hit with the public that just three years later he was starring in his own two-reelers. As an independent film maker, he produced a dozen classic feature-length comedies. Yet, in 1928, with the talkies looming as a possible threat, he made the decision to sign a long-term contract with MGM for the security it might provide. That contract would end the Great Stone Face's freedom to dictate the content and trajectory of his films.

Still, Keaton's fall from the heights was not immediate. On the contrary: His first film under his new MGM contract, The Cameraman (1928), is considered one of the funniest comedies ever made.

Keaton's character in The Cameraman is a version of the lovable nebbish he always played, but here he's a photographer with a crush on the lovely Sally (Marceline Day), a secretary with a company that produces newsreels. He drains his savings account to buy a movie camera so he can get work with the newsreel firm, but to his dismay his first reel of footage is so inept, he is laughed out of the office. Meanwhile, another photographer (Harold Goodwin) also has his eyes on Sally.

Determined to make good, the little neophyte goes to Yankee Stadium to shoot film of the team. But the Yankees are on the road and the stadium's empty, so instead Keaton delivers one of the comedic highlights of the film, and of the entire silent era. He trudges to the mound and goes through the motions of a pitcher with the bases full; checks with his catcher, to whom he shakes his head (no!) and finally nods yes; then he delivers an invisible pitch, fields the unseen bouncer, throws to second base for the force, and "watches" as his fielder completes a double play. Receiving the unseen ball again, he picks off the runner at third base. Inning over, the triumphant Keaton struts off the mound. Coming to bat in the next inning, he wins the game with an inside-the-park home run, beating the throw to the plate by sliding in, head first. Man can play ball.

The little cameraman gets up the nerve to ask Sally for a date. She sweetly replies that she may already have a date, but asks for his phone number in case she is free the next day. That morning, he rises early and dresses in his only suit, determined to sit and wait for her call. When she does call and tells him she's free to go out with him, she continues to talk, but now nobody's listening. The little fellow is racing at top speed, down the street, across the park, into another neighborhood, while Sally continues talking to nobody. When she realizes there is nobody on the line listening to her, Sally hangs up and is astonished to find the little cameraman standing next to her, puffing and trying to catch his breath. "I'm sorry I'm a little late," he explains.

The Cameraman is filled with wonderful vignettes like that. At a swimming pool, he dives in but loses his swimsuit in the process, then frantically engineers a solution to hide his nakedness. While waiting for Sally's call, he hears the phone ring in the hallway—three stories away from his room—and we see him run all the way downstairs three flights, to answer it. Wrong number. He disconsolately trudges back upstairs, not watching where he is going, and winds up on the roof of the building. In another scene, he's trying to open his piggy bank to get some cash, but no matter what he hits it with, it refuses to break. When he holds it firmly against the wall and tries to hit it with a hammer, the wall shatters but the bank does not.

The hapless nebbish finally catches a break while filming a yacht regatta. His rival for Sally's affections has taken her for a ride in his boat but, during a sharp turn, the boat capsizes and both passengers fall into the sea. The man recovers and makes it to shore, but Sally, unconscious, is left to drown. After the little cameraman jumps in to save her and carries her to the beach, she awakens and imagines it was her date who saved her, and thanks him. He accepts her thanks, though he had abandoned her in the ocean.

The truth comes out when the nebbish's final reel is screened at the newsreel office. It turns out that while he was rescuing Sally, his pet monkey was cranking away at the movie camera, and caught everything on film. Sally, after giving Keaton's rival a piece of her mind, runs out and finds the little cameraman and thanks him warmly.

After The Cameraman, Keaton made his final silent movie, the not-bad Spite Marriage (1929), then went into sound films as Jimmy Durante's sidekick in a half-dozen MGM comedies. They were funny enough, in their formulaic way, but the old magic was gone. The Cameraman would be the last of the great Keatons.