A seemingly malicious universe descends about his ears, he takes one hard fall after another, yet never gives up; he's a gallant and resourceful loser with guts and brains and determination, an innocent who just doesn't seem to know when he's beaten -- and somehow, with that refusal to acknowledge defeat, he isn't beaten after all. Grit, ingenuity and seemingly casual stunts bring him through to the final reel to come out on top, with dignity intact and a storm of applause.
We all know the role: it's Buster Keaton in the movies, unlikely little hero who draws on the depths of his own resources to survive everything the world throws at him. But -- going by the existence of this film -- that wasn't just the character we saw on screen; it was the integrity of Buster's own dogged, courageous self, and the story of his life.
He's pretty much down and out, financially and professionally speaking, at this stage: paid peanuts to entertain monkeys with cheap disposable product. But, as ever, you can't help loving the man for his resolve -- he hasn't given up, he isn't phoning in his performance, he's still doing all his own stunts with inimitable conviction, and within the straitjacket of a tiny budget he's still coming up with gags that raise a fresh laugh.
My guess is that the title "So You Won't Squawk" refers -- beyond the obvious parody -- to the memorable telephone gags in the script. These telephones are definitely more than simply a means of mechanical communication; they seem to take on an independent life of their own, even when hung up or pulled out of the wall! (And let's face it, how many of us, faced with a chirpy voice in the call centre queue, haven't at some point longed to do what Buster does in the final scene?)
Buster here is the nervous little handyman decorating a mob boss's new joint, who accidentally saves the day for his employer, Louie "the Wolf", and is 'rewarded' with the opportunity to make an appearance collecting protection money in his place. Naturally, it isn't Buster's best interests but his own that Louie has in mind, and Buster is soon innocently walking the tightrope of constant murder attempts at the hands of the goons from a rival mob...
There is some fairly heavy stunt work for a forty-five-year-old Keaton involved in this short, even if it's not quite on the level of "Our Hospitality". He has himself dangled from windows by one or both hands (in one case performing an extended one-handed routine while battling with a telephone in the other), suspended and falling headfirst from a step-ladder by one ankle, and dropped prone onto the hard pavement from off-camera above head height, as well as acting as the human bowling-ball to a row of villainous skittles and performing numerous standing falls. There is also a classic Keaton-and-cops chase scene, in which he deliberately sets out to provoke every policeman he meets with the aims of achieving Louie's comeuppance!
I found the beginning a little uninspired -- there are only so many predictable things one can do with a step-ladder and a string of light-bulbs -- but once this gets cracking it's really pretty funny. In no sense is Buster short-changing his public: granted a shoestring budget and a handful of days in which to shoot, he's doing his utmost to conjure a silk purse out of a sow's ear, and the end result is unmistakably Keaton in its tone and its wry playfulness. More raucous than the shorts he made in the early Twenties (it's hard to imagine the grave-faced Buster of those years wiggling his tongue rudely at a hapless cop; although "The Frozen North" might cut it...) the film still shows typical ingenuity, makes for good entertainment, and contains genuinely original material. (There is an interesting example here, belying Keaton's reputation as a silent-era relic, of a gag that is dependent on sound for its effect: it is the noise of the hissing from the gas pipe that causes a woozy Buster to mistake it for a snake and deal with it accordingly.)
This might have been among the darkest reels of his life, financially speaking: but as with the heroes he portrayed on the screen, while Buster Keaton might have been seemingly all washed-up, his determination hadn't given out. Nor would it.
(Obligatory allusions to past films: as during the Tong war in "The Cameraman", the sound from falling light-bulbs is mistaken for gunfire...)
We all know the role: it's Buster Keaton in the movies, unlikely little hero who draws on the depths of his own resources to survive everything the world throws at him. But -- going by the existence of this film -- that wasn't just the character we saw on screen; it was the integrity of Buster's own dogged, courageous self, and the story of his life.
He's pretty much down and out, financially and professionally speaking, at this stage: paid peanuts to entertain monkeys with cheap disposable product. But, as ever, you can't help loving the man for his resolve -- he hasn't given up, he isn't phoning in his performance, he's still doing all his own stunts with inimitable conviction, and within the straitjacket of a tiny budget he's still coming up with gags that raise a fresh laugh.
My guess is that the title "So You Won't Squawk" refers -- beyond the obvious parody -- to the memorable telephone gags in the script. These telephones are definitely more than simply a means of mechanical communication; they seem to take on an independent life of their own, even when hung up or pulled out of the wall! (And let's face it, how many of us, faced with a chirpy voice in the call centre queue, haven't at some point longed to do what Buster does in the final scene?)
Buster here is the nervous little handyman decorating a mob boss's new joint, who accidentally saves the day for his employer, Louie "the Wolf", and is 'rewarded' with the opportunity to make an appearance collecting protection money in his place. Naturally, it isn't Buster's best interests but his own that Louie has in mind, and Buster is soon innocently walking the tightrope of constant murder attempts at the hands of the goons from a rival mob...
There is some fairly heavy stunt work for a forty-five-year-old Keaton involved in this short, even if it's not quite on the level of "Our Hospitality". He has himself dangled from windows by one or both hands (in one case performing an extended one-handed routine while battling with a telephone in the other), suspended and falling headfirst from a step-ladder by one ankle, and dropped prone onto the hard pavement from off-camera above head height, as well as acting as the human bowling-ball to a row of villainous skittles and performing numerous standing falls. There is also a classic Keaton-and-cops chase scene, in which he deliberately sets out to provoke every policeman he meets with the aims of achieving Louie's comeuppance!
I found the beginning a little uninspired -- there are only so many predictable things one can do with a step-ladder and a string of light-bulbs -- but once this gets cracking it's really pretty funny. In no sense is Buster short-changing his public: granted a shoestring budget and a handful of days in which to shoot, he's doing his utmost to conjure a silk purse out of a sow's ear, and the end result is unmistakably Keaton in its tone and its wry playfulness. More raucous than the shorts he made in the early Twenties (it's hard to imagine the grave-faced Buster of those years wiggling his tongue rudely at a hapless cop; although "The Frozen North" might cut it...) the film still shows typical ingenuity, makes for good entertainment, and contains genuinely original material. (There is an interesting example here, belying Keaton's reputation as a silent-era relic, of a gag that is dependent on sound for its effect: it is the noise of the hissing from the gas pipe that causes a woozy Buster to mistake it for a snake and deal with it accordingly.)
This might have been among the darkest reels of his life, financially speaking: but as with the heroes he portrayed on the screen, while Buster Keaton might have been seemingly all washed-up, his determination hadn't given out. Nor would it.
(Obligatory allusions to past films: as during the Tong war in "The Cameraman", the sound from falling light-bulbs is mistaken for gunfire...)