- The General
Yesterday, the Silent Film Society of Chicago presented a special screening of Buster Keaton’s 1928 film The Cameraman at Saint John Cantius Church, complete with organist Jay Warren’s accompaniment on the church’s vintage 1924 Wurlitzer. Few cinematic experiences are as joyous as watching Keaton’s films with fresh eyes. His shorts and his incredible run of features during the 1920s are revelations, filled with clever social insights and, of course, an array of how-did-he-just-do-that stunt work. His screen presence remains one of cinema’s most poetic: the hapless everyman whose indefatigable and reckless impulsiveness remains the source of great inspiration and comedy for contemporary viewers. All films are timeless, in a sense—they exist on the screen, not the past or present—but Keaton’s films are timeless in a different, more affecting manner. The moods and emotions conveyed resonate today just as they did in the early 20th century, a testament to Keaton’s keen understanding of the human experience.
- Steamboat Bill Jr. (1928) Like College, this is considered a minor work, though I tend to think of it as his last great film. His slapstick is particularly nuanced here, deepening the story’s classic romanticism, and he isn’t afraid to stick to a certain bit or idea longer than is expected. The film’s refined style is what alienates the casual viewer, whereas those attuned to Keaton’s sensibilities enjoy its aerated moods.
