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The National Film Theatre Centenary Season
1st October 1995 - 31st October 1995

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"Here is
the most modern of all vintage comedians, the most visually refined of directors. How I
envy anyone watching these films for the first time." Geoff Brown
The Times
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Programme Introduction
It gives us much pleasure to celebrate Buster
Keaton's centenary (he was born in October 1895), especially as the last NFT season was
about ten years ago. And what a lot there is to celebrate: Keaton's golden years of the
1920s include one masterpiece after another and seeing them together is a prospect not to
be missed. Keaton's handsome, gaunt, unsmiling face hides a myriad of emotions: his
persona is that of a fighter, combating all kinds of perils, both human and mechanical,
with a cunning steadfastness which always has an audience cheering him on.
He was the finest craftsman of 1920s comedy, working
judiciously with his co-directors and technical staff who produced his wonderful settings;
he possessed a directorial eye always aware of the right camera set-up and the correct
distance between object and camera. Apart from these skills as actor, acrobat and
director, there is also an indefinable quality which can only be described as poetic.
Keaton may be continually embattled and pursued, but there is still time for moments of
repose and an ineffably tender, caring feeling for his heroines.
Keaton the actor/comedian appears in all the
reference books; this season is designed to highlight his achievements as a master
director and, in many ways, an important innovator. Always alive to the possibilities of
the moving camera, his flamboyant travelling shots (even in the early work) give the films
a wonderful rhythym and freshness even when seen many times. His feeling for Americana in
films like Our Hospitality and The General raise them to the level of
elegant period pieces.
One word of advice: don't arrive late and miss the shorts, because
many of them are equal to the features in subject and ideas. Keaton could pack a lot into
20 minutes and the comic invention in The Playhouse (where he plays all the parts)
and the extraordinary dark comedy The Boat all add something to the totality of his
achievements in the '20s. Welcome back, Buster.
John Gillet
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The Programme
Sunday 1st
NFT1, 4:15pm
Our Hospitality (1923)
Day Dreams (1922)
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Thursday 5th
NFT1, 6:30pm
The General (1926)
The High Sign (1921)
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Monday 9th
NFT1, 6:30pm
The Cameraman (1928)
Neighbours (1922)
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Tuesday 10th
NFT2, 6:15pm
Spite Marriage (1929)
The Electric House (1922)
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Thursday 12th
NFT2, 6:15pm
Go West (1925)
The Frozen North (1922)
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Monday 16th
NFT1, 6:30pm
Sherlock Jr (1924)
The Playhouse (1921)
The Love Nest (1923)
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Tuesday 17th
NFT2, 6:15pm
Seven Chances (1925)
The Boat (1921)
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Friday 20th
NFT2, 6:15pm
My Wife's Relations (1922)
Cops (1922)
The Haunted House (1921)
Film (1965)
The Railrodder (1965)
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Saturday 21st
NFT1, 4:10pm
The Navigator (1924)
Out West (1919)
The Balloonatic (1922)
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Wednesday 25th
NFT2, 6:15pm
Battling Butler (1926)
The Paleface (1921)
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Friday 27th
NFT2, 6:15pm
College (1927)
The Goat (1921)
One Week (1920)
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Tuesday 31st
NFT1, 6:30pm
Steamboat Bill Jr (1928)
Hard Luck (1921)
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Selection From The Programme Notes
Every film screened at the National Film Theatre is accompanied by a
printed set of 'Programme Notes'. This one (or two) page sheet contains cast and credit
details for the film(s) being shown, together with a review/magazine article/book extract
about the film. The selection below is from the Programme Notes that accompanied The
Navigator (1924).
The Navigator
In contrast to the character that Lloyd created, Keaton would resemble
the classic simpleton of legend and fairy story were it not for a quality in him which
might be described as metaphysical madness. As the art historian, Erwin Panofsky, has
pointed out, he is imperturbably serious, inscrutable and stubborn, and acts under the
impulse of an irresistible power comparable only to the mysterious urge that causes birds
to migrate or avalanches to come crashing down. That this impulse is generally focused on
a girl (of no particular attractions) matters as little as the fact that Don Quixote
performs his exploits for the sake of Decline: it is not by accident that the only kiss in
The Navigator is applied to the thick glass shield of a diver's helmet.
Thus Keaton moves in the mechanized world of today like the inhabitant
of another planet. He gazes with frozen bewilderment at a nightmare reality. Inventions
and contrivances like deck-chairs and railroad engines seem insuperably animate to him, in
the same measure as human beings become impersonal. Without friends or relatives, he is
generally incapable of associating with his fellow-beings on a 'human' basis, but
mechanical devices, though often inimical to him, are, on the other hand, the only
'beings' which can 'understand' him. They are the real 'co-stars' in his films (the big
liner in The Navigator, a pre-historic railroad engine in The General): and
while they often introduce an element of confusion or Positive terror, as in the scene
where a self-started gramophone plays 'Sailor, Beware', or in the macabre opening of the
twenty doors of twenty uninhabited staterooms, there is, on the other hand, the
unforgettable moment when Keaton, by a tender tap, expresses his gratitude to a little
cannon which, in the very nick of time, has decided to kill his enemy.
He always wins in the end; not, like Chaplin, by romantically escaping
from the world of machinery into a realm of human freedom, but, on the contrary, by
fatalistically throwing his humanity into the whirlpool of mechanical forces. He is a hero
by the grace of Un-reason and Un-feelingness, and in this respect a very modern hero
indeed.
The 'plot' of The Navigator is particularly amusing in that it
restates the problem of Robinson Crusoe with an inverted sign, so to speak; where
Robinson Crusoe, on a deserted island, has to create the rudiments of civilisation,
Keaton, finding himself and his girl marooned in an over-technicalised environments has to
create the rudiments of natural existence. Robinson Crusoe cannot boil an egg because he
has neither fire nor kettle - Keaton cannot boil an egg because the available apparatus is
only fit for boiling three hundred.
Bulletin of The Museum of Modern Art, Vol XVI, Nos 2-3
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