L'Opérateur

What a delightfully wacky world our Buster inhabited. This one, his first MGM feature, the beginning of the end one might safely say, is about a hapless would-be newsreel photographer trying to get a foothold within MGM, mostly in order to win the sweet girl in the front office. Lost of footage in 'Cameraman' is rather less than vintage Keaton, some jokes aren't as fresh as one would wish, but hey, listen, this is Keaton, the great stoneface. A Deity. Because other footage is simply brilliant. The pathetic pictures of Buster sitting in his little room from the crack of dawn in all his Sunday best, waiting for the girl to maybe ring. When it does ring he has to rush four stories down to get it! Or the scene where he has to share his dressingroom with another gent and their clothes and limbs get tangled up with each other. Or, most spectacularly, the (location?) scenes from the gangwar in Chinatown, dynamic, violent, imaginative. See it, love it - just just expect another 'General' or 'Sherlock' or 'Scarecrow' or 'Steamboat Bill' or 'Battling Butler'.

Buster Keaton and his leading lady Marceline Day shine in this deliciously romantic comedy from 1928, about a tintype cameraman who longs to become a successful newsreel photographer for MGM. Most of the female leads in Keaton's films were basically props, with not much substance, but Marceline's performance as Sally is outstanding. She had lots of chemistry going with Buster here, because her character was not shallow towards the little cameraman, who has obviously fallen head over heels in love with her. She treats him with respect and encourages his ambitions.

This sweet and touching classic silent movie deserves a first class restoration by Kino, with a further restoration of the original piano score that is so lovely ... not a new score, please! I don't know who composed the original music for this film; it is not listed in the IMD credits anywhere, but whoever the composer was, they should be recognized and honored. Best scenes in The Cameraman are the public pool scenes, where Buster tangles with a mafia type in his dressing room, then loses his bathing trunks while swimming; the Tong War scenes with Josephine the monkey (so adorable!); and the regatta scenes, where Luke (Buster) saves Sally, only to have her affection stolen from him by an unworthy competitor.

The current print available on the MGM video VHS release of The Cameraman available on Amazon.com is absolutely awful: over-exposed, with multi-thousands of defects. Do not buy it; instead wait till the much better print is shown again on Turner Classic Movies. This is the print to obtain to fully enjoy the movie, and this is the print that should be widely available for sale, so the public can rediscover this gem. Buster Keaton was simply the funniest performer who ever appeared in the movies, bar none. All his films deserve the best restorations possible.

This was the first film Buster Keaton did at MGM after his financial backer, Joe Schenck, withdrew his support. It was also the last feature film in which Buster Keaton had creative control. In it, Buster plays a photographer making tin types on a street corner for passerbys. Some dignitaries appear, a crowd gathers around them, and as a result he is pressed up against a girl (Marceline Day) in the crowd until the dignitaries leave and the crowd disperses. She doesn't notice him, but he's instantly smitten. His face says it all.

He looks for the girl, Sally, and finds she is working as a secretary for MGM newsreels. He figures that the way to impress her and also a way to be around her all day is to become a cameraman himself. She tells him he will need to have a camera of his own if he wants a job there. So he withdraws every dime he has in the bank and buys an old run down camera. What follows are his awkward attempts to get the girl with his awkward attempts at being a newsreel cameraman.

The best way to describe The Cameraman is that it is a series of vignettes and gags that could entertain if you just watched them individually, but work together to the final conclusion. Accidental skinny dipping, a gang war, an impromptu solo baseball game, and an organ grinder monkey who made a better side kick for Buster than Jimmy Durante could have ever hoped to be are among the disparate situations that fuel the gags. And if you think that you recognize some of these gags as being lifted and placed in1935's "A Night at the Opera" with the Marx Brothers, you would be right.

MGM was a movie factory, and the fact that the actual script of The Cameraman is hard to describe drove the studio heads crazy, even though it was a box office success. But MGM learned the wrong lesson - That Buster Keaton was well suited to being a star plugged into their formulaic movie making. They stole Buster's independence and put resentment in its place, and that resentment grew with each film he did, ultimately leading to personal and professional disaster.

Buster Keaton plays a kind hearted but bumbling cameraman trying his best to win over a clerk at MGM studios. Despite his best efforts, hilarious mishaps keep getting in the way. Among the funnier skits, A San Francisco Tong war, getting stuck in a dressing room with another man, and his constant antics with a local police officer. The film tugs your heart strings as you wish nothing but the best for this poor man. Strongly recommended if you like a light hearted and family friendly films everybody can enjoy. Fans of Charlie Chaplin and the Three Stooges will find Buster Keaton's work to be a breath of fresh air and even though it's a silent film, no sound is needed to appreciate everything this film has to offer.

THE CAMERAMAN is, in a way, Buster Keaton's most heartbreaking movie. It shows what could have been, if only MGM had left him alone. Keaton had made all of his great films at an independent studio where he had total control over his work. With the help of a hand-picked creative team, he wrote, directed, designed and starred in his movies, not to mention doing all his own stunts. Buster always left himself room to improvise and revise during filming, sometimes incorporating accidents into the development of new gags. He gave little thought to financial matters; he believed in doing things right, whatever the cost in money, time or physical hardship.

In 1928, Keaton's producer Joseph Schenck dissolved his studio and turned him over to MGM, the biggest, richest, and most authoritarian of the major studios. Keaton went reluctantly, feeling he had no choice. At first, the situation didn't look too bad. For his first MGM film, THE CAMERAMAN, he kept most of his creative team, and provided the idea for the story. It had the element he considered most important: simplicity. He would play a street photographer who, smitten with a receptionist at a newsreel company, strives to become a newsreel cameraman. MGM took this idea and sent it to their writers, who complicated it with subplots, extraneous characters and needless plot twists. The studio also dispatched Keaton to film on location in New York. Frustrated by the crowds that interfered with filming, by a script he disliked, and by conflicts with his director, Keaton pleaded with Irving Thalberg to let him edit the script and shoot the rest of the film in Los Angeles. To his everlasting credit, Thalberg agreed, and director Ed Sedgwick also came around the Buster's way of working. As a result, THE CAMERAMAN became a Keaton masterpiece, one of his most mature, satisfying, and hilarious films.

Not surprisingly, some of the funniest and most inspired moments were not in the script but were improvised by Buster during filming: when he pantomimes a baseball game in Yankee Stadium, when he calmly demolishes his room in an effort to open his piggy bank, and when he attempts to change into a swimsuit in a small cubicle shared with an irascible fat man. But the level of inspiration is consistently high throughout the film. There's a beautiful sequence in which Buster runs up and down a staircase (filmed smoothly from an elevator), anticipating a phone call from his beloved Sally. When he finally gets the call, he drops the receiver and races through the city streets (in fact, Manhattan's 5th Avenue) to arrive at her house before she has hung up. There's a nightmarishly funny scene in which he loses his over-sized swimsuit in a public pool, and swims around with only his alarmed and desperate eyes above water. For the last third of the movie, there's the marvelous Josephine, an organ grinder's monkey who becomes Buster's troublesome sidekick. Not only is she one of the best animal performers you'll ever see, she's a better actor than some humans who appeared in silent movies. It's a delight to watch her riding around on Buster's shoulder, scampering up and down his body, and embracing his great stone face with her tiny hands.

THE CAMERAMAN reflects Buster's fascination with film-making and the mechanics of the camera. His character's clumsy initial efforts are a textbook of film-making mistakes. There is an appropriately spectacular finale in which Buster films a Tong war in Chinatown, imperturbable amid the swirling riot of violence. There's the most poignant moment in any Keaton film, when Buster, having rescued Sally from a boat wreck and rushed off to get aid, returns to the beach to find his rival has taken credit for the rescue and won her gratitude. His posture of utter defeat is almost unbearable, and his ultimate vindication is truly gratifying. The romance in THE CAMERAMAN is more fully developed than in most of Keaton's films; Sally is played by the exceptionally pretty Marceline Day, and unlike Buster's often prickly love interests she is unfailingly sweet and supportive. They meet when a passing parade pushes them together in a crowd, and Buster, finding his face in Marceline's hair, shuts his eyes in swooning bliss. Already we can see Buster's character shading towards the more sentimental, "sad clown" type that MGM later forced on him. But in THE CAMERAMAN he's still stoic and ingenious, and his performance is incredibly subtle and expressive, every motion fine-tuned to perfection.

I appreciated this performance all the more when I recently watched Turner Classic Movie's new DVD release. The picture quality was so much better than the old battered video print that I felt I'd never seen the film before. Alas, the print is no more complete than earlier versions. Portions have been lost to wear and tear because MGM—delighted with the film's success—played their print over and over, using it as a training film for new comedians. The savage irony is that the lesson the studio drew from this was not that Keaton did, in fact, work best when given freedom, but that Keaton was better than ever under their control. They would never again allow him such independence, and his films would rapidly deteriorate in quality. But don't think about this while you're watching THE CAMERAMAN, just enjoy one of the most elegant and perfect romantic comedies ever made.