Film

A bizarre short experimental film penned by author Samuel Beckett, Film is based on his interest of philosopher George Berkeley's concept of "subjective idealism", an 18th century philosophical notion which suggests that the existence of material substance cannot exist without being perceived. As "O" – the Observer, Keaton attempts to escape "E" – the Eye of observation, which includes the camera – to which his back is turned throughout much of the production.

Largely indecipherable without Beckett's explanation, "O" hides from the gaze of every living thing, including himself, in a small cell-like room as both precursor and condition for his character's death.

And, if you are the least bit curious about Film, be sure to watch Ross Lipman's fascinating Kino Essay "Notfilm" (2015).

This is a very odd film. Samuel Beckett's only venture into the motion pictures, oddly enough stars "The Great Stone Face", silent/sound star, Buster Keaton. This film, which is only 20 minutes in length, is Buster Keaton's only venture into the psychological part of the cinema. It has no music, dialogue or sound effects which makes this a truly "silent" film. It is a unique piece of motion picture history.

Considering the other comments, there's little to add about the movie, but I know these few facts surrounding it. When Schneider visited Keaton to see whether he'd do the movie, Schneider found Keaton in a poker game w/ three empty chairs, which represented three of Keaton's companions--all dead, but Keaton continued to play.

Keaton was mystified by this script, too, as by "Godot", but wanted the money. He suggested several comedic bits be added, because he thought the whole thing would be less than five minutes. In New York, he wanted to use one of his flat hats rather than the bowler Beckett had written in, and Beckett immediately agreed.

The film was shot in mid-summer in a very hot New York, each day over 90 degrees. Keaton (age 69, and not in great health: he died less than two years later) never complained as he had to keep running along that brick wall in the heavy overcoat.

It was Beckett's only visit to the U.S., and he never got outside of New York, and left the U.S. as quickly as possible.

I rate this 7/10 for fans of Buster Keaton. If you don't like Buster I doubt you'll find this short film interesting.

This is a homage to Buster Keaton by Samuel Beckett who is playing with the ideas of subject and object in a world where perhaps we have no control over who is doing the watching. Beckett had been influenced a great deal by the genre of comedy and acting that Keaton personifies. Many of his books and plays feature tramp-like, down-and-out characters and he uses the physical comedy routines of vaudeville and silent films of the early 20th Century in many of his works. He and Keaton both share the idea of man thrown into an uncaring world where they are left alone to survive among its absurdity.

However later Beckett stated : "Buster Keaton was inaccessible. He had a poker mind as well as a poker face. I doubt if he ever read the text - I don't think he approved of it or liked it. But he agreed to do it, and he was very competent." Buster had turned down overtures from Beckett before, but he was in debt, and the story is that his wife talked him into it.

Note actor James Karen as a reverend in the alley towards the beginning. Karen worked with Buster Keaton in touring productions of the comedy "Merton of the Movies" in the 1950s.

I was in art school in 1971 when my Persian art teacher who was well connected in the New York scene showed us this remarkable piece of black-and-white art. It was pristine 16mm print, and from the first frame I found it funny, disturbing and masterful. Keaton is one of the gods of physical comedy and he says more with his body in this short piece of film than many comics can say in a lifetime of work. The irony of this piece is that it is pure art, with nothing "arty" about it; The production is first rate, but nothing is out of place or over-the-top. It is part allegory, part silent shtick and pure Beckett, as well as pure Keaton. The plot is so simple, any description will spoil it.If you have the rare privilege to see it, do.