This is
my first Relationship Spotlight for a Buster Keaton movie, and I think it’s
fitting that, rather than any of the romances, this father-son relationship is
the first down the pipeline. Despite the
Romeo and Juliet-esque framework of
the plot, Buster’s Willie has the most interesting dynamic by far with his
gruff dad. (Some Bill-Willie spoilers.)
The
film kicks off with Willie’s first meeting with his father in years – he went
to Boston for school at a very young age, and the two haven’t seen each other
since. (And even aside from that, I’m
not entirely sure what the Canfield family situation is. Willie appears to be in at least semi-regular
contact with his mom but not his dad.
Don’t know if Bill and his wife are divorced(!) or if his work as a
steamboat operator just keeps him away from home.) The meeting, though, is pretty bungled. Willie assures that Bill will easily recognize
him by the white carnation in his buttonhole, but every man at the train
station seems to have taken up the same floral fashion statement, and Bill is
increasingly at a loss to find his son.
Meanwhile, Willie’s own flower, unbeknownst to him, has fallen off and
he keeps holding up his unadorned buttonhole toward prospective fathers for inspection.
This
mishap is fairly indicative of Bill and Willie’s relationship as a whole: despite the best of intentions on both sides,
they just can’t connect. When they do find one another, Bill is fairly
horrified by Willie’s beret, striped jacket, wide trousers, and “baseball
mustache” (as per Buster’s description, nine hairs on each side.) He’d expected a strapping, rough ‘n’ tumble
lad after his own heart, and delicate, bohemian Willie doesn’t fit the
bill. Their early interactions are
marked by Bill trying to make Willie more presentable among Bill and his fellow
river rats – the mustache and beret have to go, and one of Bill’s top
priorities is getting Willie work clothes for the boat (the natty ship-captain
get-up Willie ends up with isn’t exactly what he’d had in mind.)
At
every turn, Willie seems to disappoint Bill.
The boy clearly has no idea what he’s doing on the boat, Bill’s attempts
to teach him repeatedly end in disaster, and worst of all, his girlfriend is
the well-to-do daughter of Bill’s professional rival. Bill is inflexible on all counts, berating
Willie for his mistakes and trying (unsuccessfully) to forbid him from seeing
Kitty. Willie’s slightly prissy city-boy
affectations embarrass a man’s man like Bill, and Willie’s ukulele puts Bill at
his wit’s end. He first tries to keep it
out of sight, shoving it unceremoniously in his back pocket to cover it with
his coat, and later stomps on it when he catches someone laughing.
Given
all that, it may seem odd that I’m spotlighting this relationship. The thing is, even though there’s so much
going against them, both men are genuinely trying. The hat shop scene, in which Willie keeps
trying to sell his dad on a ridiculous checkered cap, is funny, but it’s also
kind of sweet in that, despite Bill’s gruffness with him, Willie keeps
expecting him to approve of Willie’s outrageous fashions. Bill may blow up at Willie and drag him
around, but the second anyone else laughs at or lays a hand on him, Bill is
immediately at Willie’s defense. What’s
more, he coaches Willie to defend himself, never assuming that Willie’s small
size or clumsiness will keep him from being able to hold his own. He eventually comes to see the value in
Willie’s cleverness and ingenuity, and when the chips are down, Willie is
behind his dad all the way. That’s why I
like them; they’re not perfect and they get a lot wrong, but both of them are working at it and getting better all the
time.
