The Goat

A simple contrivance--the Great Stone Face is mistaken for an escaped mass murderer--gives Buster Keaton room for changes rung on a theme that will make your jaw hang. The amazing thing here is the protean story invention--Keaton uses an offhand set-up to generate every kind of reversed-expectation gag. He shortens, elongates, and crash-dives out of left field every expected joke. The astonishment here is the surrealist freeness with storytelling, not just the masterly composition and choreography. THE GOAT feels as gaily, cartwheelingly modern as UN CHIEN ANDALOU. And more than even some revered Keaton features, it's a masterpiece of invention.

it is a puzzle more than a comedy. precise and seductive. gags as rummy pieces, surprising situations, memories from a chain of films who has roots in this short film and fascinating trip in heart of film history. it is not only amusing but a necessary occasion to reflection. because seems be another Chaplin but it remains different. because it is a smart answer to a young art. and, maybe, for the genius of a director - actor for who the humor is essence more than laugh. a common man in strange situation. few nuances of absurd theater and chain of situations who gives special flavor to end. like many Keaton films, The Goat is a gem. precious. and precise.

I hardly know where to begin in writing about this gem, except to say that it represents young Buster Keaton at the peak of his powers and must certainly rank with the half-dozen best short comedies ever made. The Goat is twenty minutes of smoothly paced, expertly photographed, beautifully executed gags; two reels of non-stop comic invention driven by an intense undercurrent of paranoia and yet somehow leading to a happy ending -- which wasn't always the way with Buster's short comedies. (See Cops for one case where Fatalism ultimately got the better of him, or One Week for the victory of Defeatism.) If I had to describe the tone of this film in one word I'd call it "effortless," but if I were permitted a qualifier I'd call it "seemingly effortless," for surely a lot of hard labor goes into the making of any comic opus that unfolds with such sublime ease. Still, they didn't call him the Great Stone Face for nothing: Buster never let the public see him sweat.

A sardonic title card tells us that our opening sequence is set "along Millionaires' Row," i.e. on a bread line in a grim urban setting, where Buster waits patiently at the back of the line and, as a result, doesn't get fed. But it needs to be emphasized that not for one moment does he play for pathos; Buster has our sympathy, but he never asks for it. Before long, through a series of accidents, coincidences and absurd misunderstandings, Buster is believed to be an escaped killer named Dead Shot Dan and is being pursued by every cop for miles around, and yet while he's clearly dismayed by this turn of events there is never a hint of self-pity or even surprise. We get the sense he always knew that this is what life would have in store for him, and that he hasn't time to feel sorry for himself anyway, as he has to figure out new ways to dodge all those cops and escape from the latest trap.

Just as Buster refrains from playing for sympathy he never seems to strain for laughs either, which is especially impressive because The Goat must be one of the most laugh-packed short comedies in existence. This is the film containing that iconic shot of Buster riding a train's cow-catcher right up to the very lens of the camera, which isn't a gag exactly but sure is laugh-provoking in its own strange way. Meanwhile, there are bits involving guns, dogs, cops, an incredibly furry mustache, and a clay statue of a horse that melts under Buster's weight (a surreal sight indeed), but some of the biggest boffos are saved for the finale when Buster is trying to elude his primary nemesis, Big Joe Roberts, a rotund cop who also happens to be the father of leading lady Virginia Fox. Trapped in Big Joe's dining room, Buster leap-frogs over him and sails through a transom, turns a phone-booth into an elevator and pretends to disappear, and eventually uses the elevator itself to rid himself of his pursuer and win the girl in time for one last fade-out gag.

To say more would be a disservice to first-time viewers. I only wish I could see this film in a theater full of people who'd never seen it before, and float on the laughter. Live musical accompaniment would be nice too; and incidentally the musical score supplied by Kino for their home video/DVD version of The Goat is first-rate, serving as icing on an already tasty cake.

Frequent readers of my comments know that I believe movies can change you, can hurt or build. At least I make a pretty good case when it comes to heavy films. There are some very competent ones of these, "good" by many measures... that depending on how you are building yourself should be avoided.

But what about comedy? Shouldn't it just be taken as it comes? Isn't the whole idea about the flow?

Well, I know that some films make me laugh and later feel bad about it. And some amuse in different trivial ways, But when I think of funny, real funny that lasts, its gotta be the Marxes and this guy Keaton.

This humor is physical, but instead of pain, it is based on the unexpected. Cinematic surprise. And this movie, to my mind is one of his best because he relies less on his sad character and more on the movement of the thing.

Was this the first filmmaker who mastered it all, writing, directing, editing, acting?

The thing about this is how it builds and builds. The pacing of the episodes, for sure. That doesn't seem so remarkable today. But the pacing of the stunts within that framework is remarkable in how the energy is compounded: setup, burst and faster and faster with the trigger.

Its really something to see. And at the end, after you've seen it the first time and been surprised — and laughed, then you can wonder whether comedy can be as powerful as the other film experiences. Maybe so.

Ted's Evaluation -- 3 of 3: Worth watching.

Buster Keaton is walking past a jail when he grabs the bars and peers inside. On the other side of the bars is notorious murderer "Dead Shot Dan" who is being photographed. Seeing that Keaton is behind him, Dan ducks out of shot and once he escapes, a photo of Keaton, seemly behind bars is published. As a result of this Keaton is forced to go on the run from various police officers including a persistent Police Chief who just won't give up.

I watch a lot of Silent Comedy but if I had to ask someone to watch just one short silent picture it may well be this one. The Goat is packed full of wonderful jokes, ingenious set ups and incredible stunt work. I laughed more at twenty seven minutes of this film than I have during probably every comedy I've seen so far this year combined.

What makes this film so great is the sheer quantity and quality of gags. While essentially a chase comedy, this is to the Keystone Cops what BBC4 is to ITV2. Sure they have similarities, but one is far more sophisticated that the other. Keaton seems to find endless possibilities in places to hide and ways of escape, only to have them backfire on him. The way that the gags join together feels effortless. Nothing about the film feels forced despite the huge number of jokes and stunts. Keaton never creates a tenuous link from one to another, the whole film feels smooth and calculated while remaining frantic and fast paced.

As well as being incredibly funny, this is also quite surreal in places, in keeping with Keaton's cannon. Some of the more surreal moments include a clay horse melting under Keaton's weight and perhaps one of Keaton's most famous scenes in which a train approaches from the distance and stops immediately in front of the camera showing Keaton, stone faced, riding the cow catcher. This isn't really played for laughs but you laugh at the audacity of the shot. Perhaps the most surreal scene involves an elevator chase in which Keaton and the Police Chief (Joe Roberts) are involved in a chase through an apartment block. Keaton manipulates the mechanical elevator floor indicator to his advantage (even though this wouldn't really effect where the elevator was) and by pulling it hard and past the top floor Keaton forces the elevator out of the roof. The scene is like a cross between Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and something Terry Gilliam would produce. It's a wonderfully clever and funny scene.

Something else that stands out, as with any Keaton picture, is the star's athleticism and gymnastic abilities. It sometimes seems as though Keaton is made of rubber as he jumps, falls, stretches and squeezes with ease both in and out of trouble. Keaton, who once broke his neck during a film (and didn't realise until years later when he had an x-ray) was never afraid to put himself in harms way and that is certainly true here. In The Goat he can be seen jumping through windows and off vehicles, sliding down elevator shafts and falling of a variety of apparatus. During all of this his expression never changes.

To call The Goat a masterpiece would be no exaggeration. It is easily amongst the greatest silent shorts of the 1920s and amongst Keaton's best work. The humour, timing and plot don't feel out of place today. It's the sort of film that you'll be afraid to look away from for just a second or two in case you miss a gag or glance. This is comedic perfection.

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