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12 June 2021
Saturday matinees long ago let us escape from the ordinary world to the island of the Swiss Family Robinson or the mutinous decks of the Bounty. Why not, we thought, escape the usual fare here with Saturday matinees of our favorite photography films?
So we're pleased to present the 400th in our series of Saturday matinees today: Buster Keaton in The Cameraman.
This 1:14:57 silent film from 1928 features Buster Keaton as a tintype photographer with the grand ambition to become a newsreel cameraman. It's considered Keaton's last masterpiece, his first movie under a contract with MGM that was also the final one in which he had creative control.
The original print was destroyed in the MGM vault fire of 1965. A 4K digital restoration of another print found in Paris in 1968 and yet another in 1991 was produced by Cineteca di Bologna, the Criterion Collection and Warner Bros. A Criterion clip shows the improvement.
This copy of the movie was nicely remastered by Christopher Gelstein, the Los Angeles still and motion photographer.
Life wasn't any easier for photographers in 1928.
We won't spoil the fun by summarizing the plot.
But we will point out one thing. Life wasn't any easier for photographers in 1928. The opening sequences show the struggling tintype photographer trying to get people to pose for 10 cent tintypes.
The tintypes appear to have been instant, captured by a bullet-shaped camera one cameraman later likened to a cocktail shaker.
When he does get someone to pose, some oblivious souls park themselves right in front of the lens. Some things, apparently, are eternal. And that's just the beginning of his trouble.
He does find some sympathy from a girl who posed for him. She just happens to be a secretary at MGM and gives him some helpful advice on breaking into the business.
It's a silent film but we found that surprisingly refreshing after a lifetime of laugh tracks and silly scripts. Every so often a placard appears quoting a character so we know what's going on. The brevity is a breath of fresh air.
The films of that era were unavoidable silent but they weren't intended to be endured in silence. Instead, an organist would play along, dramatizing the movie with an appropriate riff. Gelstein doesn't identify the organist, but you'll appreciate the music no less for that.
The Great Stone Face, as Keaton was called for his deadpan demeanor, is unsurpassed in physical comedy. And there is plenty of that on display in this film.
But Roger Ebert best explained what was wonderful about Keaton:
The greatest of the silent clowns is Buster Keaton, not only because of what he did, but because of how he did it. Harold Lloyd made us laugh as much, Charlie Chaplin moved us more deeply, but no one had more courage than Buster.
Good thing too because, you know, it takes great courage to play the photographer.