If You Lose The War, Don't Blame Me: The General (1926)

I have long adored Buster Keaton as being both a brilliant filmmaker and a master of the slapstick comedy genre.  In many ways one can tie Keaton to all the best elements of the silent era, whether they be the great narratives, captivating visuals or senses for a cinematic landscape that is capable of intense specifics and grand generalities.  The General is certainly Keaton's most well-regarded film, one that often gets placed as number one in his oeuvre as well as being in top hundred lists on a near regular basis, in fact, if I am not mistaken it has also managed to find its way onto the most recent incarnation of the Sight and Sound poll.  While I will probably always be partial to Sherlock Jr., I certainly found myself completely captivated by the world of The General and even became aware of myself laughing out loud at many moments in the film, something that seems to be a rare occurrence when I engage with movies these days, let alone a silent era film at that.  Perhaps it is the universality of the narrative, or the genuine zeal of the stunts and comedy in The General, but damn if it is not a well-perfected bit of film, that leads me to suggest that it is no far extension to mention the late Keaton in the same breath as other major cinematic figures, whether they be Welles, Kurosawa or Renoir.  I know that Chaplin would prove more successful and that Harold Lloyd would commit to a higher degree of insanity, but one of my many adorations towards Keaton is his seeming ability to effortlessly weave both the serious elements of his film, in this case, the trials of war, with complete absurdity, thus allowing viewers to, unknowingly, become fully aware of the more serious and to some degree illogical elements of war.  Of course, it is not necessarily the ideal commentary one would hope for considering the clear positive and negative sides of the war, however, it is a film from the twenties, and is certainly far more critical of The South than say, The Birth of a Nation, furthermore, it is not unlikely that Keaton stages his protagonist on the side of the Confederacy as a means to layer on the irony.  If all of this manages, however, to not be a selling point it is worth remembering that this film possesses the single most expensive scene in all of the silent era pictures, and is well worth it as far as the history of cinema should be concerned.

The General focuses on the attempts of railroad engineer Johnnie Gray (Buster Keaton) to become a soldier with the Confederacy, almost entirely to assure the well being of his fiancee Annabelle Lee (Marion Mack) and the upkeep of his locomotive The General, for where the film obviously draws its title.  Upon discovering that Gray is a engineer the South rejects his desires to enlist and say that he should stay at home, however, the officers fail to explain their decision to Gray who assumes it is a negative choice, leading to his repeated attempts to join the Confederacy, particularly after he is egged on by his fiancee's brother and father.  Annabelle not realizing precisely why Gray is not enlisted, threatens to leave him unless he shows up in the clothing of the Confederacy.  Time passes and during an unusual event, Annabelle becomes a prisoner to escaping soldiers, leading to Gray chasing them down on a pushcart, which leads to the mid-section of the film which is a glorious and lengthy set of chases and re-chases between Gray and the soldiers in blue, often taking turns throwing things into one another's paths to slow down their already specified mobility.  During a night when Gray sneaks into the enemy camp he discovers their plans, which revolve heavily around a specific bridged trade route and after taking the lead in his locomotive, he is able to draw the Union soldiers towards the bridge, which he has started on fire, causing the passing trains to pass over the bridge, only to have it cave in while riding over it, leading to the destruction of the trade route in the process.   This is followed by a thorough trouncing of the soldiers on the part of the South, a barrage which directly involves Gray, at one point he becomes the bearer of the Confederate flag.  In the end, however, Gray obtains the thing he truly desires, via reuniting with his fiancee who has forgiven him and understands his situation, the two are shown kissing, while Gray half-heartedly salutes the passing soldiers, considering that his efforts on the train led to several degrees of promotion in one fell swoop.

The General is a lot of different things, whether it be a early reflection on the filmic possibilities concerning an anti-war statement, a fear of modernization blocking from human interaction, even in a negative sense, or perhaps most obviously it is a romance.  One with these suggestions can create arguments as to their validity and relevance to the respective film, however, there is an undeniable and outspoken consensus that this is easily one of the greatest comedic films of all-time, in not the to few concerning America specifically.  The question then arises as to what precisely makes The General such a stand out comedy, often placed higher on lists than any other Keaton film, and in many instances well above the first mention of Chaplin.  I would suggest that a ton of the support and eventual critical success of the film is its purposeful commitment to some of the more traditional tropes of Westernized culture, although completely reverting and reappropriating them to fit the desired situation.  It is no small feat to move a large train forwards and backwards, let alone choreographing one's movements through that area as well, much like Lloyd and Chaplin the shear athleticism is baffling and to center it within a comedic context is something entirely its own brilliance.  Keaton would often forces his way through scenes to make the moment work, diving, twisting and dodging accordingly all in the name getting the ideal shot or sequence.  Where the slapstick elements not enough, however, it manages to be further brilliant by the genuine comedy of the plot and the passing of being a soldier for either side, by simply switching coats, a mockery of Benedict Arnold, while also earnestly considering what it means to identify with one side during a war.  Perhaps the real humor in the film, however, comes at its most scathing moment, wherein Gray ignores all the killing he has done now that he has repossessed the affections of his fiancee, suggesting he would literally kill to win her back.  As noted before, it is seemingly simple, however, it has layers of irony and criticism when one pauses to truly place the situation against the backdrop of the war occurring simultaneously.

Key Scene:  The match cut of Keaton dropping stuff of the train while the following train and soldiers continually pick the stuff of the tracks is filmmaking 101, but few have used the match cut as well since...oh yeah there is also this really cool train crash sequence.

Buy this movie, it is a backbone for any collection.  I certainly plan on upgrading to blu in the near future.

For Your Awareness: Mother (1926)

For this month of women in film, I decided to dig pretty deep into the film canon and find some rather obscure gems, not to mention a film that is directly tied to some research I am currently doing for a class, it is the veritable two birds with one stone way of executing things on this blog when possible.  As such, I decided to go with the 1926 Soviet montage film Mother, which, much like its contemporaries, exists in a succinct and envisioned manner that pops off the screen capturing viewers intrigue by its near surrealist use of juxtaposition and high level cinematic to draw in viewers.  In the fashion of so many films from the Soviet Union of this era, the narrative is very much centered in a Marxist state of mind, where in, the proletariat (working class) is living in insufferable conditions and attempts to make advances through revolutions, which are seemingly always suppressed by the powerful and emotionless bourgeois (upper class) who seem far more content on making profits and keeping within their ivory towers than concerning themselves with the suffering of the common man.   If the Soviets were making movies circa 2011 it would be a 99% vs 1% rhetoric, although the revolutionary zeal and artistic output that emerges in his context is far greater than anything which emerged in relation to a bunch of people occupying parks.  Of course, I did not necessarily pick Mother for this month in film, because of its relationship to Marxist politics, although oppression and finding voices against that is certainly something that has emerged in the previous blogs for the month, no, I picked this because I wanted to start mapping a trend I have witnessed, particularly in class fueled narratives of revolt, wherein mother is an image used in a sort of sacrificial exploitation manner, a fact, which is clear in Battleship Potemkin, as well as less obviously in a handful of other films of the era.  I draw upon this film not to critique it stylistically because it is a masterful piece of cinema that is as indicative of the Soviet montage as any of its contemporaries, but, instead; to ask why in a film so concerned with oppression that it makes no qualms about exploiting a female figure for its narrative benefit.

Mother focuses rather loosely on the Russian Revolution of 1905, primarily as it relates to a metallurgy plant set on gaining better wages for their families.  The Mother (Vera Baranovska) is broken down by her lack of food and ability to take care of her family, all of who are equally distraught, the worst of all being her drunkard of a husband who fails to do anything productive.  Yet when he is convinced to help with the revolution efforts he and his son become key figures in the fight, and it is when the father looses his life, that the mother attempts to protect her son from the inquiries of military officers.  Realizing that the mother is protecting secrets she is jailed for a length of time, during which the revolution escalades and her son becomes inextricably tied to the movement, upon release the mother and eventual son who receives his own jailing time, the two are now heavily invested in the movement.  During their final confrontation with their enemies, the son dies and the mother takes up arms as a very real symbol of loss and anger, only to be trampled in an intense scene moments later.  The mother makes for a powerful symbol of sacrifice and one that is from a propaganda standpoint flawless.  Yet, one must remember that as a woman this cause does not allow her to move outside of the domestic space, nor does it afford her any sort of right to correct, say an alcoholic husband, yet her image as a signifier of sacrifice is embraced and pushed to the revolutionary forefront.  One only needs to consider that Russia is often referred to, at least in this era, as the "motherland," yet, mothers, as this film, shows, likely without intention, are the most relegated and othered group within Soviet Russia and their involvement within the revolution was quite exploitative, at once a thing of symbolic empowerment, as well as something to be ignored in the face of the masculine drives of war.

This is, as I already noted not a critique, but simply a consideration.  The mother is a key figure in culture, and in the example of propaganda they exist as a point of problematic exploitation.  I still highly recommend viewing Mother because it is a thing of cinematic perfection, although getting ahold of a quality copy might be a bit expensive.