I find The Cameraman, in its best moments, funnier than Buster Keaton's earlier, non-studio production, The General. As a soldier in the Civil War, Keaton lacks an element of credibility. While that doesn't tarnish the cinematic cleverness of The General, the contemporaneous and urban setting of The Cameraman seems to suit more appropriately his particular talent. This feels more like a naive romantic comedy of today rather than a satire on the melodrama of the past.
In a gag-driven comedy, we remember set pieces and the brief moments of magical hilarity. Originality is incredibly important, because other aspects gathered from the pleasure of viewing are often disregarded. For instance, this film has little to say about the human condition and it doesn't have a lot of panache in the art and camera departments. So it needs to pull of a few major original gags, which it does: anarchy punctuates the odd scene in the rain with the police officer who wants to test his reflexes to see if he's "goofy"; and, Buster undressing with another man in the changing room at the swimming pool is brutally funny. His subsequent performance on the diving board and loss of bathers leads to some insightful moments of Buster, the actor: he couldn't be "The Great Stone Face" without that pair of clear expressive eyes. With little more than his brows and forehead for assistance, he reveals suspicion (at the girl swimming underwater around his naked body) and then resembles Jaws as he hunts down a prey to retrieve another pair of swimming tights. It is so easily enjoyable to get inside Buster's head and I think it's because of those eyes. Kuleshov might want to say he doesn't express anything and we, the audience, interpret his feelings based on the choices of the director's linear staging and editing techniques. But, it is so tempting to say we know and understand Buster Keaton's characters. He makes all these human errors and always follows his passions undeterred. We love him as a cinematic figure. If Buster Keaton were replaced in his films by, say, big, tough, dominant, Sterling Hayden, I doubt if the Kuleshov effect could generate anywhere near as much empathy than what we have for the little guy.
There is a nasty streak running through this film. The supporting cast (except the ultimate saviour: the organ grinding monkey) are all pitted against our little hero. Made in 1928, the dawn of the Great Depression seems to of had an effect on the production. There are few niceties. Apart from the aforementioned exchange of elbows and dark looks to the face in the scene in the dressing room, we see hordes of people crammed inside and scrambling onto public transport, a hero short on change, and an authoritarian newspaper editor ready to sack the heroine on loyal principals. Perhaps the film was a kind of response to the panic that must have been setting into the minds of certain members of the public. The message, loosely delivered, is that people should stop watching the parades of the famous, forget baseball heroics, and learn to appreciate the smaller, more specific elements of lifestyle within their society. Since, it is ideal love and having a passion for individual ethical rewards that will see us through tough times. Not panic or arbitrary worship of figureheads, or intolerance for one's neighbours.
And laughter, mixed with a little bit of Preston Sturges' much hated "deep dish" themes (that he nevertheless dealt with by virtue of his hatred and is mentioned here because he combined just about every element of silent-era comedy into his films of the early-40s), went miles to give people a thoughtful escape into better times on the silver screen. Even if here it may have been more of a warning, a prelude to the darker days that were to come.
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