The Play House (Keaton 1921)

Now here again Keaton is playing against convention and against expectation, but the gulf between this and 'The Frozen North' is immense. I would happily have sat down and started this again the minute it ended if only I had someone to watch it with. The 7 year old isn't seeing the appeal of Keaton. She preferred drawing comic strips on the living room floor and looking up every few minutes to ask me questions about what was happening. 'Is that the same man again?' Fair play to her, but she missed a treat. I'll sneak this back into her pre-bed programme a month or two down the line.
So- was the opening five minutes of utter magnificence (Buster playing all the parts- the actors in a play, the audience, the backstage staff, the orchestra members) a swipe at Chaplin's cravings towards omnipotence (or at least the frequent repettion of his name on film credits)? Probably not, but when the programme notes flashed up on the screen, Keaton's name repeated on every line, that was my initial impression.
It's beautifully done this opening section- extraordinarily clever but also very well observed, and a good showreel for Keaton as a character player. Just as much as Chaplin (and I guess the vast majority of the superior silent comedians) Keaton was very much associated with one character, and he seems to be revelling in this opportunity to show off. The temptation with 'The Play House' I think is to knock what comes after this initial extended dream sequence, and I think that's unfair. The film as a whole is perhaps a little disjointed, but I think if you view it as a miracle rather than a two reel comedy you're not likely to be disappointed. Those are the terms you need to be appreciating this on. Okay, overstating it a tad perhaps, but really this is a remarkable film.
After his dream of theatrical domination Keaton wakes up on the stage a mere theatre hand, a mere prop mover, in love with one of a pair of twin sisters (though he's never sure which one) and harrassed by the theatre owner. This could have been a feature you know- there are certainly enough brilliant ideas in 'The Play House' to fill out the careers of a dozen lesser comedians.

One Week (Keaton 1920)

My goodness, yes. I'd seen this before, years ago, during a brief previous flirtation with silent comedy- curiously enough it didn't leave much impression on me. Certainly a lote less than the Chaplins and Laurel and Hardys I was thriving on at the time. But watching it now I'm gobsmacked that I wasn't singing its praises from the highest rooftop- it really is perfect isn't it? I mean, it does absolutely everything right- the blend of cleverness and funniness is just spot on. A world without Buster Keaton is almost unthinkable- there are few things more asinine than getting into the whole business of ranking silent comedians, but Keaton is of the very first rank, the very first- let's just leave it there.
Buster and the very sweet Sybil Seely are married- as a wedding present they are given a self-assembly house and a plot of land to build it on. Even before the house-building shenanigans there's some great stuff with a jilted ex-boyfriend and a cop- it's all so casually brilliant, and that I think is part of the charm of Keaton: there's nothing particularly in-your-face about what he's doing, he's just subtly brilliant. And the chemistry between the newlyweds is magical too- I think it's quite telling that even with all this wonderful slapstick, and the procession of Buster's genuinely jaw-dropping stunts, some of the most memorable moments are the little kisses between the two of them. There's a real love story tucked in there, which is why you're not even too downhearted at the ending- the big failure, the house destroyed, the walk away together down the dusty road: you know they've got each other, and everything's going to be just fine.

Mighty Like A Moose (Chase 1926)

My God, to go from that pair of Ambrose films to this. This is the story of Mr and Mrs Moose, a couple of 'homely people'- he is buck-toothed, she has a bulbous nose. Without consulting each other, they have their hideous deformities fixed- afterwards, not only do they not recognize each other but they fall in love all over again. That central conceit- that after such minor operations they no longer have a clue who the other one is- is so gloriously and knowingly absurd that you just cheer it on.
To all extents and purposes this is a pantomime two-hander- you expect Chase to be great because he always is, he's dependable, but so is Vivien Oakland. Not only does she look stunning with her fashionable blonde short hair, but she plays it superbly- they work together so well in this film. It's all put together brilliantly as well- enormously well crafted with some great directorial touches. The polka scene in particular is perhaps the greatest piece of ensemble leg acting in cinema history. (Gale Henry is the polka dancer, and she's very good in this one short scene.) Leo McCarey directed this, and you can tell from every shot that this is a guy who really knew what he was doing. Silent slapstick shorts need great directors just like everyone else does. Don't neglect them: they need your support.
The film's climax is an extended fight scene between Chase and... himself. With teeth and without, as it were, and he pulls it off fantastically- he really is one of the greats and I'm admiring him so much in the films of his I'm seeing. If there's another Charley Chase film out there somewhere as good as this, bring it on- this was wonderful, and if there's a hall of fame for silent comedy this needs to be in it.