Top Five Buster Keaton Stunts: Independent Features

I was surprised that I had trouble picking my top five stunts for Buster Keaton’s independent features.  There were a couple obvious choices, but beyond that, there wasn’t a handful of scenes rising to the top.  Is it that by this point in Buster’s career, there’s so much awesome that it’s hard to tell what’s the most awesome?  Is it that the features have more of a balance between stunts, gags, storylines, and cinematic innovations, so the stunts tend to blend in with everything going on instead of really standing out?  Beats me.  I’ve got my five though, and even though my couple obvious choices are plainly on an entirely different playing field, I love them all.

Three Ages

This one makes the list because it wasn’t actually supposed to happen.  Buster planned to clear the gap between the buildings; the fall was an accident, captured on film thanks to Buster’s “keep rolling until I die or say ‘cut,’” brand of direction.  It was while he was recovering that he decided the footage of him falling was funnier than a shot of him making the jump would’ve been, so once he was back on his feet, he extended the sequence with more falling shots.

Our Hospitality

Like the parkour-esque moves in The Bell Boy, this scene is just straight action.  Buster rescues his girl by swinging out on a rope over a waterfall.  Even aside from the amazing fact that it was 1923 and Buster built himself a waterfall, it’s stupendous.  The build-up, the timing, the stunning execution of the scene – impeccable.  It might be my favorite Buster scene of all time.

Sherlock, Jr.

Today on How Buster Does It…  So, Buster wants his character to ride on the handlebars of a driverless motorbike.  How does he do it?  He learns to steer a driverless motorbike while riding on the handlebars, that’s how!  Yeah, the head-on shots are faked (probably easier to film that way,) but the long shots are 100% Buster – no tricks, just the Great Stone Face being a BAMF.  The gags on the bridge are my favorite.

The General

Maybe it’s not the most dangerous (even though, given the fact that Buster’s scrambling around on a moving train, it is pretty dangerous) or jaw-dropping, you’ve got to love the cowcatcher scene for sheer style.  Fantastically framed and perfectly choreographed.  So much awesome.

Steamboat Bill, Jr.

You knew this was coming.  The quintessential Buster moment.  That is the side of a house, and Buster had something like two inches of wiggle room on either side.  The story goes that the cameraman filmed it with his eyes closed because he couldn’t bear to look.  This is what Buster does – the audacious, the reckless, the visually arresting, the never-been-done-before-but-imitated-forever-after, the comedic, the ballsy, the technically precise, the Buster.  Astounding.

Doctor Who: Series 9, Episode 3 – “Under the Lake” (2015)

Fantastic episode.  I always enjoy Toby Whithouse (“School Reunion,” “The Vampires of Venice,” “The God Complex,”) and while I might enjoy some of his others better for various reasons – Sarah Jane!! – this one might be the tightest story I’ve seen from him so far.  Exciting, intriguing, and creepy.  Can’t wait to see how it turns out next week!

The TARDIS lands in the middle of an underwater military base beset by what appears to be actual ghosts, a fact that delights/fascinates the Doctor to no end.  As the ghosts do their darnedest to add to their numbers by picking off the Doctor, Clara, and the base’s crew one by one, our heroes work to reason out how the ghosts operate and learn what they’re after.  It’s an excellent base-under-siege story a la “The Impossible Planet” / “The Satan Pit” or “The Waters of Mars” – it also rings true with a number of classic-series stories in that vein, especially those in the Second Doctor era.

We’re continuing our streak of amazing Doctor, much-improved Clara, and blessedly-great Doctor-companion interactions.  The Doctor takes control of the situation with relish (he’s so excited to encounter something he doesn’t know – I love it,) authority, and his usual lack of social finesse.  His enthusiasm for the mystery is infectious, and he’s 100% on-point awesome Doctor.  Not only does Clara seem like she wants to be there, but her opening scene with the Doctor suggests they’ve been traveling continuously for at least a while.  Could we have come to an end of the annoying part-time companion stuff?  That would be just lovely.  The Doctor’s pretty much running the show here, but Clara provides good support, asking the right questions and being brave in the face of danger.  And I just can’t get over how much they feel like actual friends now.  They show concern for one another, and when they give each other a hard time, it’s not in a painful, on-different-wavelengths way.  It’s in a we-can-joke-‘cause-we’re-friends way, and it makes me so, so happy.

The supporting characters are mostly likeable and interesting – there’s one corporate type that’s wildly archetypal and a bit boring, but the rest are clever, brave, and, even when they’re worried about their safety, ultimately focused on the larger picture rather than themselves.  (Thankfully, the Doctor seems to have gotten past his anti-soldier bias – he doesn’t make a single sanctimonious remark about the military, and he even points out that volunteering to serve their country speaks well of their character.  We’re turning over new leaves everywhere this season!)  Extra cool, the commanding officer Cass is Deaf, signs for her primary language, and uses an interpreter to communicate.  Even though the Doctor of course comes in and does his usual everybody-listen-to-me thing, she’s very much in charge of the crew (all of whom respect her authority and have no issues with interpreted communication) and the Doctor quickly takes note of her intelligence and other strong qualities.

My only big complaint about the episode, so it happens, is also Deaf-related.  I’ve wondered for ages how the TARDIS translates sign language, and I’m bummed that the answer turns out to be, “Um, it doesn’t.”  I know they wanted the keep using the interpreter for our sake, but they could’ve indicated that the Doctor and Clara understand Cass and still had the interpreter for the crew.  Also, the Doctor speaks “baby,” “horse,” and “dinosaur,” but he doesn’t know British Sign Language?  Seriously?  Uncool.

Favorite Characters: Hugh Abbot (The Thick of It)

I just adore Hugh.  It’s only right that his character left the series – due to problems with the actor – but I was sad to see him go, because he is no-holds-barred hysterical.  Just fantastically funny in a way that’s all his own.  No one does it quite like Hugh, and while the show is still a tremendous comedy after his exit (an improved one in some cases; I wouldn’t trade Malcolm’s increased focus for anything,) it definitely loses the particular shade of humor Hugh brought to the show’s palette. 

Back during Capaldi Fall, I described Hugh as an Eeyore of a cabinet minister, and I really don’t think there’s a better way to sum him up.  Yes, he’s a rather profane, self-serving Eeyore, but he’s an Eeyore none the less.  Part of it is down to the sheer insanity of some of the crises he finds himself facing.  Undoubtedly, he got into government work assuming it would be important, but during his time on the show, his major calamities include a full-blown scandal over the second home he doesn’t have time to use and the fate of his career resting on his ability to make small talk with the prime minister’s wife.  It’s not exactly the stuff home secretaries are made of, and it’s no wonder Hugh feels dragged down by it all.  It doesn’t help when even the most seemingly-inconsequential blunder unleashes the full wrath of Malcolm on him, and he’s more than once reminded how powerless he truly is compared to most of the politicos he rubs elbows with.

So yes, a great deal of it is circumstance, but there are plenty of people dealing with ludicrous catastrophes on the show.  Others are just as browbeaten, but Hugh’s lugubrious demeanor is entirely his own.  His natural state of being is “deflated,” and even when he’s genuinely happy, his smile looks fake.  It’s only when his expression is droopily glum that he seems natural.  This is a man who physical hides from his superior when he’s out of favor, is convinced that his driver secretly looks down on him, and doesn’t go to bed when he finally gets home because he has to be back at the office in a few hours and “[he] didn’t think it was worth taking [his] trousers off.”  It doesn’t get much more sad-sack than that.

I should point out that Hugh isn’t a good person by any practical definition.  I mean, he tries – sort of – to do his job well, but he’s ultimately much more concerned about his own political profile than anything he can accomplish for the public in his position as a cabinet minister.  He’ll generally attach his name to whatever policies he thinks will go over most successfully in the press, he’s not above pushing his friends/colleagues in front of him when Malcolm is out for blood, and when he’s desperate enough, virtually nothing is sacred to him.  Beyond that, he’s no stranger to bald-faced lying, he’s all but ruled by his insecurities, and he’s practically allergic to coming clean when he’s messed up.  Just who you want helping to run the country, right?  But he has ample company in all this.  The Thick of It isn’t a show for good people; that’s not the point, and part of the intrigue is seeing just how awful these characters can be personally, professionally, and to each other.  As such, you don’t watch to shake your finger at Hugh’s shortcomings (although he does some things that are truly terrible, especially at the end of series 2.)  Instead, you just laugh at how foolish he makes himself because of them.

Crimes against Tauriel (The Hobbit)

In Tolkien, Tauriel doesn’t exist.  It’s a fair point.  However, I’m not going to complain that the extremely male-heavy Hobbit films invented a new female character and added a couple excuses to involve Galadriel.  That said, given that there are essentially two women in a trilogy with more than twenty-five featured characters, the films could have done far better by this one.  (Spoilers for The Battle of the Five Armies.)

And it’s sad, because, as constructed, Tauriel is pretty cool.  She’s a badass elf warrior with heaps of combat prowess, of course, but even better, she reaches out in a time when her people are largely isolationist.  While Thranduil wants to close the gates on the darkness spreading in the distance, Tauriel feels a duty to find out what is happening and try to prevent/fight against it if possible.  She doesn’t look down on non-elves on principle, when she believes her king is taking the wrong path, she’s not afraid to disregard his commands and go her own way.

Given all these terrific qualities going for her, it’s a shame that the films let her down so badly.  My first grievance may seem a bit too… shall we say optimistic?  It’s a movie, after all, and female characters have a depressingly long history of being relegated to love interests.  But again, when you only have two women in your incredibly-packed trilogy, it feels pretty trite to immediately shove one of them into a love triangle.  The overall writing of the subplot isn’t horrible or anything – Tauriel’s preference drives the story, and with an elf/dwarf pairing on one side and significant class differences on the other, either relationship would lead to potentially-interesting societal challenges.  Honestly, a big part of my issue with the basic fact of the triangle, beyond the whole “only two women!” thing, is that it’s inflicted on poor Evangeline Lilly again.  It was very illuminating to realize that my enjoyment of Kate on Lost is inversely proportional to her proximity to Jack and/or Sawyer (seriously, she can be so awesome as soon as she gets away from them,) and I hate to see her served up the same well-trod plot.

But the mere existence of the love triangle is a footnote compared to how it affects Tauriel in the final movie.  Okay, so we have a movie full of badass elf, dwarf, and human warriors in what’s basically one punishingly-long battle scene.  As an aforementioned badass elf warrior, there should be lots of Tauriel running around being a boss, right?  Let’s take a look at her most pivotal scene.  She’s been preoccupied for much of the battle about Kili, the sexy dwarf archer with whom she’s been edging toward a relationship.  She finally spots him in the fray, only to be so distracted that she’s set upon by an orc and winds up in mortal peril.  Kili rushes in to save the day; he succeeds in protecting her, but he himself is killed by the orc.  Both incensed and heartbroken, Tauriel attacks the orc to avenge Kili, but in doing so, she winds up in mortal peril again, and this time, it’s Legolas, the elf who loves her, rushing in to save the day.

Badass elf warrior, the only woman on that battlefield who isn’t a terrified peasant, and she gets damseled twice in the same sequence and needs to be rescued by both the men who are in love with her (with the one she’s in love with sacrificing himself to save her.)  Who on earth thought this was a good idea?  Why, oh why, am I even seeing this happening?  It’s so staggeringly awful that, in the middle of the theater, I had to take a moment and ask myself if this gross scenario was actually unfolding.  It still just makes me shake my head – I don’t even know how to approach this.  Just… who thought this was a good idea?!

Relationship Spotlight: Lai Yiu-fai & Ho Po-wing (Happy Together)

Rather like Adam and Nina from Bright Young Things, Fai and Po-wing are most interesting in how they don’t work as a couple.  The effect here, however, is quite different.  While Nina and Adam’s big problem is that they’re too immature to commit in the way that they need to, these two are perhaps too committed, too invested in a relationship they’d be better off without.  (Some spoilers.)

I don’t want to say that things are a constant struggle whenever Po-wing and Fai are on-again.  It’s not.  They have quiet, genuine “happy together” moments – dancing, sex, nodding off in the back of a taxi.  Little glimpses of perfection that help maintain the pull that keeps bringing them back towards each other.  It’s harder to tell with Po-wing, since a) he’s really not a focal-point character, and b) he seems to vibe on tumult, but in these rare, contented scenes, I’d say Fai wonders why they can’t be like this all the time.

But these glimpse are just that – glimpses.  The vast majority of the time, it’s fighting (verbal/physical) and mistrust and broken promises and tantrums and passive-aggressive power plays.  Po-wing walks all over Fai, knowing that, no matter how vehemently Fai breaks ties with him, they’ll fall right back into their old routines if Po-wing can hook Fai again.  And hook him he does.  Po-wing turns on the charm, he showers Fai with presents, and he insists on intimacy.  He uses his turbulent living to his advantage, counting on Fai’s sympathy, care, and resources whenever his (Po-wing’s) reckless ways get him hurt or in trouble.

And so Fai takes him back.  And so they restart the cycle.  Po-wing’s sweet talk, affection, and helplessness never last for long.  It’s just a matter of time before he grows restless and his eye starts wandering.  He’s soon back to taking Fai for granted, criticizing him and bringing chaos to both their lives.  As for Fai, he’s quickly up to his old ways of jealousy and suspicion, calling Po-wing out for inconsideration but generally rolling over in the end.  I know it makes Fai feel pretty miserable – he’s resentful of how Po-wing treats him, and he’s disappointed in himself for taking it.  Again, I’m less sure of Po-wing’s reaction to it, but I can’t imagine it’s all that good for him, either.  I think Fai can make him feel penned in – I could see Po-wing being annoyed that the term “old ball and chain” was already coined in reference to one’s partner, because he probably thinks he should’ve come up with it as a description of Fai.

Despite the sniping, animosity, and overall distress, though, there’s such a tug between them, an unwillingness to fully go their separate ways.  Po-wing has a frequent too-cool vibe, insinuating that Fai is totally beneath him and he could do so much better.  And yet, when he’s in trouble, it’s Fai that he goes to, Fai that he clings to.  And while, in the main thread of their story that we see, Fai starts out very resistant to letting Po-wing back in, he quickly loses all sense of proportion despite himself.  Even as he sets up rules to keep Po-wing at arms’ length (ie, not sleeping in the same bed,) he takes and hides Po-wing’s passport because he’s afraid Po-wing will leave Argentina and, by extension, Fai.  Po-wing is frequently awful to Fai, but that’s horrible, too.  Even before you factor in all the dysfunction and insecurity that must permeate their relationship for Fai to do something like that, there’s still the basic fact that Po-wing is an adult who can leave if he wants to.  It’s like they’re each other’s drug.  Openly acknowledged or not, they both know the relationship is bad for them, but they just can’t let go.