A happy crowd… Buster’s Shorts, Talkies Community Cinema, Christ Church, Southgate with David Hinitt and Adam Dickson

“Not long ago a friend asked me what was the greatest pleasure I got from spending my whole life as an actor. There have been so many that I had to think about that for a moment. Then I said, ‘like everyone else, I like to be with a happy crowd’.” – Buster Keaton

This was an irresistible first for me: the chance to watch silent comedy in a church with live improvised organ accompaniment.

Talkies organised the event superbly and silent activist Michelle Facey programmed perfectly. There were packed pews for this premier of Keaton comedies at Christ Church in leafy North London; just a dash down the A10 and a few dozen minutes of male hit-and-hope navigation (it’s really quite easy to find if you have the humility to pre-plan Paul…) from home.

Sybil never loses faith...well almost

The venue is lovely with the warmest of welcomes: this is a community cinema in all senses and there were eager helpers ready to serve the kind of refreshments required after your husband has just given you a de-tour of Enfield. This was not entirely the usual audience for a silent screening - there were a fair number of “civilians” here for the opportunity to share something different and to laugh at a man repeatedly falling over in a church.

Sometimes people can treat silent film with too much reverence (sorry) but the aisles were truly alight almost the second Roscoe and Buster started their larks in the first film: this audience were here for an unqualified good laugh. They were here to share. 

Molly Malone watches as the wall falls on Roscoe Arbuckle

Back Stage (1919)

First up was one of the 15 two-reelers Buster made with Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle a huge star at the time soon to be on a $1 million a year contract. Back Stage deals with a subject very close to Buster’s heart: small-town vaudeville. Keaton had been on stage almost his entire life with his presence in the family act enabled a combination of childcare and commercial opportunity.

Buster and Roscoe play a couple of stage hands trying and failing to keep the motley performers happy. There’s a crazy-legged dancer (Jack Coogan Sr. in the days before his son made him more famous) and a giant strongman (Charles A. Post) whose strength is matched only by that of his petite assistant (Molly Malone).

Charles A. Post

Buster and Roscoe electrocute the brute but he just won’t stay down. In the end their cast go on strike and they have to complete the show on their own. Things go so badly they go really well and amongst the hilarity a stage scene house falls onto Roscoe who survives by the good fortune of an open window… the first, if not even the last time tonight, Buster deployed that device.

It was a treat to see these two in their early adventures. Now, wouldn’t it be god to see some more of Mabel Normand with Roscoe?

Roscoe Arbuckle

The Goat (1921)

The Goat was another astute choice from Michelle featuring another iconic Buster Keaton moment…

Buster thinks he's seen a ghost not a goat!

Buster gets confused with Dead Shot Dan (played by co-director Malcolm St. Clair) and all heck breaks lose as he goes on the run. Dan simply ducks as Buster watches on through the bars looking for all the world as if he’s the con.

Much confusion reigns in what could be considered a demo for Cops only with a handful not hundreds of LA’s finest in pursuit. Eventually Buster annoys the Police Chief himself – BIG Joe Roberts – and ends up romancing his daughter (Virginia Fox) or at least trying… the chase is almost all...

Buster and some Cops!

One Week (1920)

All under control

Directed by Eddie Cline and Keaton this was the first film to be released with Buster on his own. Not for long though as he is quickly wed to Sybil Seely and then off to build a new house on a plot provided by his uncle. All looks swell for the newly-weds until a jilted ex swaps the numbers round andthe pieces fall neatly out of place.

Big Joe Roberts features again as a piano mover who drops his cargo onto its relatively tiny recipient: more jokes about size not being everything: Buster always finds a way even if it leads to further complications.

I’ve previously raved about One Week and it hasn’t lost its charm or impact: the audience gasped at the ending as Keaton provides the classic gotcha moment of jeopardy-relief and then… smash!!

Looking good

The Boat (1921)

This was another Keaton revelation: I knew he had a boat called the Damfino, I just never knew what it really meant or, indeed, how it was pronounced or rather, mouthed. It was a punch-mime well worth waiting for and I’ve never heard so many people laugh whilst lip-reading.

Sybil launches the Damfino!

Buster has built his boat in his house and, best laid plans and all that, it just won’t squeeze out of the front door. He makes a few adjustments and pulls the Damfino through only for his house to collapse just behind. Undeterred the Keaton family, two boys in pork pie hats and the long-suffering Sybil Seely head sea-ward.

It’s interesting to see the character Keaton had devised across these four films. He was a go-getter, trying to sort things out for himself and in spite of every reversal he just keeps coming. A constructive clown and a man after our own hearts. Your boat’s sinking? Climb into the bathtub! Lessons we should all heed…

Buster and Sybil take a bath

In a world in which mistakes happen and you have to improvise your way ahead: and in Buster we trust!

The organists David Hinitt and Adam Dickson performed admirably on what was only their second or third silent accompaniment. It’s no mean feat especially trying to capture the mood of quicksilver comedy: take your eyes of Buster and you risk missing the punchline!

All in all a splendid time was had by all in Southgate and lets’ hope Talkies shows more silents in future.

The three Buster solos are available on the Kino Blu-ray Short Films Collection: 1920-1923 set and also with the Arbuckle collaborations on Complete Buster Keaton Short Films (1917-1923).

Christ Church's Lady Chapel complete with William Morris stained glass and decoration

Bitter sweet… Wild Oranges (1924)

What was King Vidor's agenda? Raymond Durgnat and Scott Simmon make much of the director’s Christian Science background in their book King Vidor, American; his work the result of a constant struggle between the films he wanted to make and the need to produce popular product.

Wild Oranges (1924), like The Sky Pilot (1922) may well be one of those films were he smuggled in more meaning than was apparent to his paymasters at Goldwyn Pictures – something which pointed the way to more philosophical fare such as The Big Parade and, especially, The Crowd.

Frank Mayo

It tells of one man’s reaction to chance and the decisions he wrestles with in the seductive heat of South Georgia, the old South, shrouded in cloying strands of over-growth, animalistic passion and primal fears.

The music of chance...

The story begins with what now might be described as a Paul Auster moment: a scrap of newspaper is blowing innocuously across a dirt road, what’s that got to do with the price of oranges the audience asks until the horses pulling a passing trap are distracted and bolt pulling their passengers along a break-neck speed… and so it proves as the vehicle spins round a corner sending its passenger to her death on the ground.

Her husband rushes top his wife’s aid but it’s too late: she is gone… just like that leaving a hole in her husband’s heart he never expects to fill again.

Two men and a boat

Three years pass and the man, John Woolfolk (Frank Mayo) has been sailing the World with only his right hand man Paul Halvard (Ford Sterling) for company. He never feels compelled to set down roots and travels on in the hope of never meeting Love again.

On to a Georgian shoreline well off the beaten track and with a tricky approach over fast moving shallow waters: the perfect place to get lost and the perfect place to run aground…

So far so sad but what awaits is something else… An old man (Nigel De Brulier), looks on in rising panic, a victim of congenital anxiety but still shell-shocked by the civil war fought two generations before.

The locals spy the unwanted visitors

A disheveled giant of  a man, Iscah Nicholas (Charles A. Post) also regards the boat in the harbour with fear – his mind even more clouded than the old man’s and with a darker secret that gives him more rational basis for concern.

From the boat, John spies a woman swimming and it turns out not to be Delores del Rio taking an early dip but Virginia Valli… John looks on through binoculars and no doubt reminds himself of his vow to keep on moving.

Vidor was an advocate of the filming of wild swimming

But the boat needs water and John ventures to land where he is captivated by the scent of oleanders and orange blossoms. He walks through the fruit trees encroaching all-round the once grand old house and stops to try some of the fruit… “Wild oranges – at first surprisingly bitter, but after a moment pungent and zestful with a never-to-be-forgotten flavour.”

He meets Millie (Virginia Valli) – the old man of the house’s granddaughter – who whilst she has inherited his timidity still has a clear and open mind: she can grow beyond the confines of the twisted plantation perhaps.

She and John talk and she reveals that she’s never left their land even though she’s read of the wider world… there’s a spark between the two and one that unsettles both John and the watching Iscah.

The next morning Iscah plays a mean game with Millie carrying her to the swamp where he perches her on a tree stump surrounded by alligators: he won’t release her until she agrees to a kiss. His only hold on her is through fear and the physical dominance he exerts.

Insert snappy caption here

But there are challenges to come as after chasing Paul away from collecting water with a knife, John returns to lay down the law: “don’t get me started… “ repeats Iscah to which John invites him to “start anytime he likes…” Iscah is finally meeting his match and he doesn’t know what to do.

Meanwhile Millie is lured by the promise of John’s boat and rows out for a trip which both thrills and then unnerves her… something had tied her to this land and she won’t easily be cut free.

Free all at sea

Things get darker on their return as her fears over Iscah are realised when he rushes at John with his knife… Millie throws her hands up expecting the worst only for John to easily disarm the younger, bigger but untrained man: he kicks his bottom (as I believe the American parlance has it?) as he throws the knife in the water.

But things are coming to a head and it’s not just Iscah who is losing his; John is getting too close to Millie and needs to make his escape. He cannot be unfaithful to the memory of his wife and he fears for the unlimited pain that the commitment of love can bring…

He points the yacht out to sea and looks to be on his way but as he steers in the dark he has visions of Millie; their potential happiness calling him back…

Meanwhile life is getting a whole lot more uncomfortable for Millie as Iscah proposes in his terrifying way and she only narrowly escapes his assault by blockading herself in her room… All is set for a mighty conflagration and, without giving anything away, Vidor sets up one of the most exhausting and convincing fights to the death you’ll see in silent film… it’s desperate stuff as every man, woman and dog are taken to the limits.

"Don't get me started..." "You can start anytime..."

Wild Oranges is in many ways a simple film but it benefits from this focus: five actors, a dog and two crocodiles… the confines of the boat, the decaying house and the physical constraints of the over-bearing local air, suffused with a musky fragrance that must affect the senses every bit as much as the heat.

John W. Boyle’s cinematography helps to capture this feel whilst Vidor and his editors keep the action at Southern Gothic pace – I was reminded of Mary Pickford’s superb Sparrows from 1926 which is a better film but who knows, Miss P may have seen this one?

I watched the Warner Archives DVD which comes with a splendid new score from Vivek Maddala which moves well with the storyline without overwhelming it as orchestral updates can sometimes do. Maddala’s pacing is bang on and really does catch the southern climes, the eerie warmth of the breeze and the fragrance of those bitter-sweet wild oranges.

The disc is available direct from the WB Shop or from Amazon.