The other day I attended a screening of the black and white silent film Sherlock Jr., starring Buster Keaton. Now, I never took a film class in college. Mainly because all of the interesting classes were upper-level and I didn't have the time or the desire to take the introductory prerequisites. So I am not really familiar with film technology in the first decades of the twentieth century, nor am I more than casually versed in the works of iconic performers like Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton. But, I have to say, the sophistication of Sherlock Jr. really surprised and amazed me.
First off, I personally find Buster Keaton more entertaining than Charlie Chaplin, despite the latter being generally accepted as the more influential celebrity. For one thing, Keaton wears a constant frown that perfectly mixes the gloomy moroseness of his character with an adorably juvenile innocence. It exemplifies his character much like the mustache and walking stick for Chaplin. Keaton rarely speaks; his thoughts and feelings are expressed purely through the tones of his frown, and his actions, which, again unlike Chaplin, are very subtle and contemplative.
In Sherlock Jr. what impressed me most were the visual effects that seemed decades ahead of their time. In particular, there was a dream sequence in which Keaton falls asleep in the projection room of a movie theater. A semi-transparent out-of-body Keaton appears and visualizes himself in the movie playing on the screen. To show this happening, the players on the screen are shown at the same scale as live actors on a stage. It was barely noticeable when the switch happened, and I was almost confused when Keaton, watching the movie, ran up and jumped into the scene.
What happened next was even more impressive. The scene was still set up as to be on a movie screen, two-dimensional and bordered. But as Keaton tried to go to the woman in the scene, the setting kept changing, while his body, clearly inside each scene, remained independent. It's hard to explain, but it reminded me of a black and white version of the movie Jumper. At first he is on a lawn with a bench. As he goes to sit down, the entire set changes to a desert and he falls over. It was simple and comical, but it must required an immense about of planning and editing to make his movements flow smoothly through ten or fifteen settings.
There were also some stunts, performed by Keaton, that were so quick and nonchalant they must have been real. For example, from a second- or third-story rooftop he jumps and grabs onto a railroad crossing pole and hangs on while it falls to the ground, landing perfectly in the back seat of an open-top car. The camera gives a wide, steady shot of the whole sequence, so you know there are no camera tricks, no support cables, and certainly no mattresses between the pole and roof in case he fell.
The last thing I wanted to mention was a scene where Keaton is playing pool. The gag is that his enemies have placed an explosive '13' ball on the table, hoping that Keaton will hit it. Miraculously, Keaton -- again, without every hesitating or changes his facial expression -- perfectly pockets every ball except the rigged one, which is never touched. The camera only switches away a few times, but there are several shots of Keaton taking four or five shots -- trick shots included -- and perfectly pocketing his target without moving the explosive ball at all. Either I am missing some very sophisticated camera work, or Keaton is a master pool player.
My point is, you don't really expect a black and white movie to be that entertaining. And if anything you expect the humor to be outdated and awkward. But I was surprised at how funny and relatable this story is and how well-done the creative the stunts and illusions are. It is strange to think that movies that didn't even have sound could feature convincing and sophisticated camera tricks. If you ever get the urge to watch something different, I would recommend Buster Keaton.
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