
by Ed Howard
The General is one of the purest delights that the cinema has to offer. Its construction, and its appeal, is utterly simple, and yet there’s a visual poetry to it that goes far beyond its minimalist surface. Buster Keaton’s most famous feature, co-directed with Clyde Bruckman, is quite possibly also his best, and certainly the most direct, undiluted example of his kinetic, visceral comedic action. The film has not a shred of fat on it, not a wasted moment. There’s none of the sometimes meandering set-up that kicks off some of Keaton’s lesser features, no need here for extended exposition or narrative. It’s just one great scene, one great pantomime gag, after another.
Keaton plays Johnny Gray, a train engineer on a Southern rail line during the Civil War. When the war starts, he tries to enlist and is rejected because his civilian job is too important, but his girlfriend Annabelle (Marion Mack) and her family just thinks he’s a coward, so the serious young man — who, a title card informs us, loves only his train and his girl, probably in that order — is eager to prove his bravery and his masculinity. With that out of the way, the film then hurtles forward into the two extended railroad chase sequences that together comprise virtually the entirety of its running time. The film is neatly halved: in the first half, Keaton pursues a group of Union train thieves across Union lines, and in the second half he steals back his train and is chased by the Union army back across Confederate lines, in a race to warn the South before a sneak attack is sprung.
The scenario was based on a real incident from the war, and Keaton treats it with his characteristic serious comedy. In fact, it’s easily his most straight-faced and least comic film, which isn’t to say that it’s not funny (it is!) but that its humor is subtle even for him, the gags organically incorporated into the structure of the action-packed sequences. In that respect, it resembles the thrilling action climax to Our Hospitality, and of course it also expands upon Keaton’s train fascination from that film, spending virtually the entire film with one great train gag after another.
If The General isn’t Keaton’s funniest film, it’s definitely his most astonishing, the densest of his works in terms of pure how-the-hell-did-he-do-that stunt bravado. Keaton leaps from one train car to another, throws giant beams of wood around, climbs across the front of the engine, bounces from the train to the tracks to clear obstructions, and rigs traps to trip up his pursuers. In one justly famous moment, he sits on the front of the train and throws a beam out in front of the train so that it lands on a second beam and sends them both catapulting off the tracks. It’s done casually, as though there’s nothing to it, as though these massive wooden blocks aren’t careening around a few feet from Keaton’s vulnerable figure. It’s dazzling, almost more frightening than it is funny, and it displays Keaton’s perfect grasp of physics-based gags, his sheer imagination, his courage, his ability to precisely map out movements and make each motion, each trajectory, both graceful and somehow funny.
A perfect example is the scene where Keaton lights a cannon to fire at the Union train, then comically dodges around when the cannon barrel lowers to point at Keaton’s train instead. The punchline is typically all about trajectories: the trains turn a curve in such a way that the cannon, at the precise moment that it is fired, is once again pointing at the enemy train. The physical comedy, if it can even be called that, is inspired throughout. Keaton’s a real action hero here, and his no-nonsense physicality only makes the moments when he indulges in a slapstick gag — like the scene where he throws firewood onto the train but keeps knocking the beams off — even funnier. There’s also some deadpan wit in little details like the hilariously stoic portrait that Keaton gives to his girl (he’s posed, of course, in front of his first love, his train). Although Keaton’s the undoubted star, Mack proves a very capable foil for him, most notably in the scene where she throws tiny shreds and splinters of wood into the train’s furnace, causing Keaton to, in quick succession, strangle her and kiss her.
One great sequence actually takes place in a rare break from the train action, when Keaton hides under a table listening to some Union officers plot their attack. There’s a lot of wonderful tension here, both comic and genuinely suspenseful, especially when one of the soldiers burns a hole in the tablecloth with a cigarette and lifts it up. For a moment, Keaton can be seen, staring out at the camera in terror from under the table, while the officer simply extinguishes the embers around the burn hole and lets the tablecloth fall again. That poignant glimpse of the frightened Keaton, looking pleadingly at the camera, is unforgettable. Soon after, there’s a pair of shots that cleverly use the hole in the tablecloth to frame Keaton’s eye and Annabelle’s face (she’d been taken prisoner by the Union). It’s appropriate that Keaton here frames and emphasizes his own eye like this, because his eye, his utterly clear and direct vision, is at its absolute peak in this marvelous film.






A wonderfully concise post that brings the essentials of the film into sharp focus. This is a great film, although not my favorite Keaton film because of several things discussed in the post. It’s not as funny as some other Keaton movies like “Our Hospitality,” and it lacks an intriguing concept like the one in “Sherlock, Jr.” which turns that film into such a densely layered existential comedy treat, a layer cake of reality, dreams, movies, and fantasy wish fulfillment. But it does have many wonderful things that make it an extraordinary film even for Keaton, and these are all touched on here. The leanness of its narrative, its classic two-part mirror-image structure, the constant invention as simple situations seem to evolve spontaneously into beautifully staged gags and set pieces. Best of all, I think Johnny Gray is the most fully realized character Keaton ever played, his sweetness and earnestness given steel by his determination and the impromptu creativity with which he overcomes every (seemingly insurmountable) obstacle. The movie could serve as a treatise on clear, economical, unadorned storytelling in narrative film–serious or comic.
While it’s not my favorite Keaton film (that honor would go to his OUR HOSPITALITY or SHERLOCK JR.), I do understand the gargantuan undertaking that Keaton goes through, and then some, to get the precision and the timing of this epic roller-coaster of a film going. More than anything else, it’s the influence the film has had on cinema that causes me to place it so high on my ballot. It’s not the funniest film Keaton has ever made, nor the most emotional (he had a hard time with that), but it IS a wonder of action/comic film-making and the editing, direction and performances are all astonishing. When we look back at the titans of silent film-making, there is no mistake that THE GENERAL will be lauded as one of the supreme masterpieces and I don’t think I or, for that matter, any other viewer could ever dispute its bravado.
Wonderful, concise and straight to the point essay….
It’s always a treat to read anything written by Ed Howard. He’s a master of the language. There isn’t a wasted word. And nothing said is ever used for padding. I’d have to say ‘The General’ is Keaton’s greatest film, but beyond that it must enter any discussion of the greatest films of all-time. Like this review, the film makes use of every set-up and gag. Timeless.
Peter, we both came up with some of the same observations today, even down to a common word.
Sam, I’d add that technologically Keaton’s ‘Stemboat Bill Jr.’ is comparable.
“In one justly famous moment, he sits on the front of the train and throws a beam out in front of the train so that it lands on a second beam and sends them both catapulting off the tracks. It’s done casually, as though there’s nothing to it, as though these massive wooden blocks aren’t careening around a few feet from Keaton’s vulnerable figure. It’s dazzling, almost more frightening than it is funny, and it displays Keaton’s perfect grasp of physics-based gags, his sheer imagination, his courage, his ability to precisely map out movements and make each motion, each trajectory, both graceful and somehow funny.”
Ed you do a great job of attempting to explain how Keaton works here. It is difficult to describe yet you do it as well as anyone ever has. It is often physics-based and that’s hard to quantify when you’re making lists like this. However, the film is immensely iconic…..the images of the train chases and the civil war setting add to this iconic-feel. Perhaps only Sherlock Jr. reaches this iconic-ness in his canon…yet that’s a shorter film. Although I clearly find other films more funny, this is a masterpiece of the comedic form however you slice it and most worthy of this top 5 placement.
It’s dazzling, almost more frightening than it is funny, and it displays Keaton’s perfect grasp of physics-based gags, his sheer imagination, his courage, his ability to precisely map out movements and make each motion, each trajectory, both graceful and somehow funny
It is indeed one of the cinema’s purest delights and it is certainly suffused with visual poetry and kinetic visual action. It is also the great silent clown’s most celebrated film, one that stands at or very near the summit of the form. This is one of two EPIC comedies during the silent era, with the other being Chaplin’s THE GOLD RUSH. I would count myself among those who wouldn’t name this as Keaton’s absolute funniest film, in the same way that I wouldn’t pose CITY LIGHTS as Chaplin’s out and out funniest, as there is a strain of melancholy underlining the film, the kind that heightens comedy by bringing in the human perspective. In an acrobatic sense it is certainly the most astounding, and the cannon scene is a stellar example of how the law of physics plays out. There are so many instances of comic timing, ingenuity and sheer audacity, and you provide a glorious plethora in this impassioned review.
I know how highly you regard this film, and in every sense I am with you lock, stock and cannon, I mean barrel! It is difficult to say if one should should rate this over OUR HOSPITALITY and SHERLOCK JR., but Ed does, Allan does, and the vast majority of Keaton and fans of silent comedy do. That is why it is sitting pretty at #3 above every other Keaton and practically every other film. Yet another example of why Ed Howard is such a tremendous writer.
Many great writers lurk inside WITD (plus orbiting spheres), but for me Ed Howard is the best. Another great piece as the comedy countdown comes into the home stretch.
Much like R.D. Finch (another stupendous writer), he (Ed Howard) goes right for the deft analysis, and never pads anything. Howard’s prose is pure poetry, and I suspect one day he’ll be writing for a major professional publication, where he belongs. I have felt the same way as you for quite a while Maurizio. But right now he is busy with far more important business, and that’s raising a lovely young daughter.
I hear Ed’s new daughter has already started her own film blog. Can anyone confirm this?
Mark, this may well be true. I will investigate!!! Ha!!!!!
All those lines and circle and holes, all in motion and interacting… Keaton at his best (like this), like Tati, would be a great filmmaker no matter what kind of story were being told. Theres a kind of visual alliance to what you see even before you get the story, characters and such. And then – all of this film-making brilliance is matched to the story and characters and themes. Yep.
It probably is the first “action” movie, as opposed, say, to Fairbanks Sr.s swashbuckling romances, and that’s only fitting when movie stunts are still referred to as “gags.” If anything, his epic destruction of that train set a bad bigger-is-better precedent for the future, but it works for his own epic purpose here. There’s also a sublime humor in the way everything just turns out Johnny Gray’s way, whether by his own uncanny calculation (the beams) or seeming accidents (the cannon on the track). The romance plot is more plainly funny than anything Chaplin ever attempted. Keaton is willing to get laughs from the beloved’s discomfort (and Johnny’s compassion) in the bit where he tosses her, concealed in a sack, into a freight car, only to see an awful pile of sacks dumped on top of her one at a time. Keaton can have it both ways, making it clear that the girl is something of a sap (note the way she mindlessly follows Johnny to her own house) without questioning the fitness of Johnny’s devotion to her. There is a heart in the machine.
My own No. 1 was way off the mark, but I suspect my No. 2 will be as spot-on as my No. 3, though I’ll be happy to be proven wrong.
Ed – A great post and a wonderfully concise assessment of a great comedy.
Ed – Great job. You’re right that this is Keaton’s tightest work. His daredevil approach to his craft won him the name “Buster” at an early age, and he reportedly broke every bone in his body during his lifetime, including his neck when the water from the water tower scene in Sherlock Jr. pummeled him with unusual force. I still marvel at the scene you describe of knocking the rail ties off the track. He’s all so nonplussed by the whole thing that you can’t help laughing.
Another excellent essay Ed but I would not expect any less from you
I agree that this film doesn’t have any wasted moments. Also, I always thought of this being as a film comfortable in many genres. More than just a comedy because of the perfect set pieces associated with it. A genuine masterpiece although sounds strange coming from someone who didn’t place this in their top 20.
An excellent piece about this silent masterpiece, Ed – I love your description of it as a “serious comedy”, and agree that the gags/stunts are astonishing, as you say. Strange to think that this masterpiece was a flop at the box office when it was first released, though it has certainly made up for that since.