"Better a fallen rocket than never a burst of light."
~ Tom Stoppard, The Invention of Love

Monday, April 6, 2015

Romance in Buster Keaton’s Work

A while back, I went to a presentation on the leading ladies of Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd, comparing the different ways the love interests were used in the two men’s films.  The overall theme was “Harold = romantic, Buster = cynic,” but I don’t think it’s as concrete as that. 

It’s true that Buster’s films can sometimes be downright cynical about love (from what I’ve read about his first marriage, I’d say he came by it honestly.)  Buster’s leading ladies sometimes spurn him in the end, like in Cops, and they’re not always worth the effort Buster expend on them (College especially comes to mind.)  Frequently, we don’t get too much of a sense of who they are; the farmer’s daughter in Go West is a distant second to the cow, and the love interests in The Paleface and The Blacksmith practically materialize out of nowhere.  And then of course there’s The Frozen North (Buster’s breaking-bad short,) in which Buster shoots the woman he mistakes for his cheating wife, knocks out his actual wife, and tries to romance someone else’s wife.  Looking at that evidence, it’d be easy to say that Buster doesn’t do love.

Except he does.  Buster does some of the funniest, most endearing “smitten” acting I’ve ever seen.  In many of his films, when he sees his girl, all-but-literal hearts appear in his eyes, and from the way his gaze follows her, you’d think they were somehow attached.  Whether he’s shyly, awkwardly flirting or asserting himself over a bulkier rival, it’s clear that he’s head-over-heels.  Oh, and it’s hardcore adorable.  I think of scenes like the game of hand-holding “chicken” in Sherlock Jr., the dinner at the sinking table in Battling Butler, or the barbershop meet in Steamboat Bill Jr.  In these moments, I don’t know whether to laugh or “aww…”

(It’s worth noting that, for the most part, all the romances in Buster’s films are pretty much about Buster, not the two of them as a pair.  As I said, the girl doesn’t usually have a highly-developed role, and she’s largely there to give Buster a goal to work towards.  There are exceptions – Betsy in The Navigator goes through a pretty similar journey to Rollo – but in general, the romances focus on Buster’s lovesickness, Buster’s efforts to woo her, and Buster’s elation when they get together in the end.  He described his independent shorts as essentially involving three basic characters – himself, a rival, and a girl, and the girl was only there so the other two could fight over her.  That’s the sensibility that comes through in much of his work, that the girl isn’t a character so much as a plot.  Given the period, I don’t mind it much, but the more three-dimensional love interests are definitely my favorites.)

More than anything, I think Buster’s love stories are comedy-driven.  He’ll gladly use romance or cynicism, depending on which will give him the bigger laugh.  Sometimes, that falls on the sweet side, like when he tries to protect her from hitting her head during the bumpy train ride in Our Hospitality.  Other times, it’s wryer, like when he gets engaged by accident in The Scarecrow.  It’s all about the gag, all about doing the unexpected to catch the viewer off guard.  In that sense, I don’t think you can really discover Buster’s philosophy on love from the romances in his movies – or if you try, you’ll find more than one.  Rather, you’ll simply see his real priority.  Like everything else in his films, from his deadpan expressions to his cobbled-together gizmos to his imaginative chase scenes, the love stories are in service of the humor. 

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