Often deemed to be the last classic film made by the great Buster Keaton, The Cameraman (1928) was the final time the silent legend would have anything close to full creative control over one of his own features. . . as he folded his independent studio to sign with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM) – who promptly made him their third highest paid star.
Though his future would soon turn very bleak, this first film with the new studio was his own idea. After a lot of fighting with meddlesome producer Lawrence Weingarten, MGM hired director Edward Sedgwick who quickly stepped aside for Keaton (making him the uncredited director of the movie), as well as much approval of the dailies from studio head of production Irving Thalberg, Keaton was able to convince the man to lose the many writers that had been attached to the project (as well as their script) and do it ‘mostly’ his way. Soon after finishing this picture and moving on to his next project, Split Marriage, he called the MGM deal, “the worst mistake of my life”.
Providing the viewer with an inside look at the life of an MGM newsreel cameraman, Keaton plays Buster, a down on his luck, street-working tintype portrait photographer who falls for a woman named Sally (Marceline Day) who is forced his way on the busy streets of New York City.
Snapping a photo of her, he brings it to her place of work – as a secretary in the MGM Newsreels office. Trying to gain favour with the beautiful young lady, he trades his camera in for a used recording camera. . . though he has no clue what he is doing.
Creating two open avenues for a number of classic Keaton gags, he frequently tries to woo Sally whilst she sends him out with tips for stories – so that he can gain experience mastering the new technology.
For sports fans, the most memorable gag finds him showing up at Yankee Stadium to shoot some footage of the game. . . only for the team to be on the road in St. Louis. Providing a striking view of the famous locale just five years into its tenure (and already empty at the time for renovations), Keaton uses the massive empty building to create his own game – playing multiple different positions to mimic the sport he so loved.
Meanwhile, for fans of action, you’ll quickly realize why Keaton is still so highly regarded and influential – perhaps most recently in the John Wick franchise (which is completely understandable when you see him move onscreen). And, in at least one way, he is the original Tom Cruise – running at top speed through city streets and crowds. . . a Mission: Impossible some seventy years before the first film was made.
Another Keaton afficionado is Jackie Chan, and you can see some of his influences here. A bus scene in Police Story has many a similarity to The Cameraman, as Buster is forced to the top of the double decker bus while his girlfriend is on the main level. Scaling down the exterior of the vehicle to sit upon the inner fender protecting the bus tire, it provides him with an improvised chair. . . only for him to take a fall, but don’t worry, he’ll make an amazing manoeuver to return to his spot. It is maybe even more on the nose when he finds himself recording bullet-flying action amidst a Chinatown turf war between two rival gangs, his seemingly impromptu defense a clear connection to Chan’s unique style.
As for the romance, it never quite goes to plan – especially when fellow cameraman Stagg (Harold Goodwin) is around. At one point, Buster takes Sally for a swim at the Venice Plunge, which is quite the sight (and sadly disappeared to time all the way back in 1945). This itself provides an historic picture of the past, an intriguing cavernous backdrop for Buster as he struggles to change into a bathing suit in the same room as another man, only for his date to unknowingly have a see-through top (it looks like they only figured this out after filming some scenes, as the outfit is adjusted later – but they never went back to fix the earlier shots), and, to add to his embarrassment, loses his own attire during a dive – it certainly seems like he might have shot it in the skinny.
Lastly, it is also worth noting another one of Keaton’s co-stars, Josephine the monkey. A scene-stealer that appears during the third act of the motion picture, both comedy and creativity come alive thanks to this unexpected playmate of a primate.
Though not as awe inspiring in its scope to 1927’s The General or earlier in 28’s Steamboat Bill Jr., The Cameraman provided Buster Keaton with his last chance to shine. Capturing all of the comedic magic that the silent era has to offer, running gags play throughout, danger rears its ugly dead (a one story fall from a wooden platform collapsing would probably lead to broken bones for most people), and even romance comes alive for the Great Stone Face. Though Keaton would make some more movies. . . and would then continue on by writing gags for ‘modern’ comedians like the Marx Brothers and Red Skelton, this is truly his last great hurrah. So, bust the vaults open to see this cameraman parade around his many skills, it’s worth a harrowing rescue.