The Greatest Trick

Buster Keaton is well known as the silent comedy star who never smiles; with physical comedy as his forte, he places himself in astonishing situations for the sake of a well-timed sight gag, and never mugs the humour out of it but lets life and the movie continue. I am not a connoisseur of his films, or even of silent cinema, but there are a certain amount of classics that I feel obliged to watch if I’m going to even pretend to love film, and this is one of them. I was not disappointed, and nether will you be if you give it a go.

Keaton plays Johnnie Gray, a railroad engineer who loves his girl and his engine. When the Civil War reaches his part of the country, he tries (unsuccesfully) to enlist, and his girl rejects him. But then both the girl and the engine are stolen by northern spies, and he undertakes a single-handed mission deep into enemy territory to retrieve them, and along the way transforms himself from a bumbling no-hoper into a hero.

It’s a simple enough plot, but it weaves elements of many genres together brilliantly and results in a most satisfying (but longer than I’d expected) evening’s viewing. The war scenes are effective and realistic; the romance, while done in the style of the time and so a little stylised for the 21st century, rings true enough; and the action and comedy are so closely tied that it becomes impossible to distinguish one from the other. To be honest, Keaton barging into a group of Northern soldiers, shoving them off the train and getting it going is a standard action-flick moment, but comes off as very amusing due to his lack of physical stature, and method (or lack of) with which he seems to do things. Of course this is an illusion; every fall, jump and lurch around the train is so perfectly choreographed that it looks accidental. As a physical performer, Keaton is outstanding; in the same way as Jacques Tati and, though I hate to draw this comparison, Jim Carrey, he can control his body and timing to perfection to ensure the maximum laughs possible. And many people would accuse me of laughing too loudly and heartily when watching films in general (my parents, who were always in the room above when I was at home, in particular), but this one generated a lot of belly laughs. And it’s not all slapstick, either. Johnnie’s line after being rejected by the draft office: “Don’t blame me if you lose this war!”

The film, of course, could not be made today, and that is why you must see it. No insurance company would insure a major film star to do the things that Keaton does, and it was all him apparently. No stunt doubles here, even though any one of the pratfalls or misuses of props and scenery could have resulted in an injury or even death for Keaton had they gone wrong. Silent movies do, of course, demand more from the viewer these days, because we’re so far from that style. But give certain ones a chance and you will be handsomely rewarded (I also strongly recommend Nosferatu (1922) and Metropolis (1927), particularly for the sci-fi fans among you). And if nothing else, you can see where all those slapstick cliches began.