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Sherlock Jr. poster

Sherlock Jr.

1924 · Buster Keaton

A film projectionist longs to be a detective, and puts his meager skills to work when he is framed by a rival for stealing his girlfriend's father's pocketwatch.

dir. Buster Keaton · 1924

Buster Keaton's 45-minute marvel about a movie-theater projectionist who, framed for a theft and dreaming at his post, walks down the aisle and steps directly into the screen — where the film keeps cutting around him, stranding him on rocks, in traffic, atop a lion's den, each background change matched with surveyor-grade precision decades before anyone had a word for such effects. It is cinema thinking about itself with total playfulness: the fantasy of entering the movies, staged by the one performer athletic and exacting enough to make it physical. The second half becomes pure velocity — a pool game of impossible geometry, a chase ridden on the handlebars of a driverless motorcycle — every gag engineered, rehearsed, and performed by Keaton himself without trickery he considered cheating. During the water-tower stunt he fractured his neck and simply kept shooting; a doctor found the healed break years later. A commercial disappointment in 1924, it now reads as prophecy, echoed everywhere from Godard's provocations to The Purple Rose of Cairo. The stone face never once asks for our astonishment, which is exactly why it earns it.

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