An absent-minded Buster Keaton abruptly shifts from collecting butterflies to dodging tomahawks, as his innocent meanderings lead him straight into a conflict between a shady office full of oil tycoons and a persecuted tribe of Native American landowners. First mistaken for one of the naughty opportunists, he escapes stake, fire, arrow and spear alike before joining the natives and helping to right their wrongs.
Even given the era, this story's pretty loose; a pale shade of color to decorate the silly physical exploits that we've really come to see. In that respect, this film serves as a milestone, as Keaton has obviously employed a number of cinematic tricks and rudimentary special effects to amplify his riskier stunts. Unlike 1921's The Playhouse, where such effects were crafty and well-conceived, shockingly effective a hundred years later, the wilder stunts seen in The Paleface are transparent enough to disrupt the scene. We may not see the wires lifting Buster off the ground, but we know where they are. Rather than enhancing his infamous daredevil act, they've broken the illusion. As such, this film represents something of a growing pain in the heart of Keaton's two-reel prime.
