Accidenti che ospitalità!

There has never been a more comic use of a `train' (if the label is appropriate) than in this film. This is ingenuity at its finest, the most sustained comic sequence I've ever seen. Travelling from New York ca. 1830 to the Appalachians to claim an `estate', Keaton on this journey provides the highlight of the film-and what a highlight it is! From the bouncing actions of passengers to the lifting and moving of track, this series of images is non-stop pleasure. A dog, a hobo, a man throwing rocks at the engineer, a mule-all are inspired catalysts to laughter.

Once Keaton (a McKay) reaches his destination, the movie changes pace. And despite many good moments, especially those when Keaton has taken up `permanent residence' at the Canfields, the humor never reaches the level of the first portion of the film. Nonetheless, Keaton's genius is evident throughout the film, and it is this ability to innovate that constantly amazes.

With a good dose of everything that one expects from Keaton - slapstick, stunts, chases, rich visual detail, and much more - "Our Hospitality" is enjoyable to watch, and it has some especially good sequences. The plot idea, with Keaton as an innocent outsider becoming entangled in an old-fashioned family feud, works pretty well, although it relies on comic details to overcome some rather routine characters.

A short prologue explains the feud in which Buster will soon be involved, and then we see New Yorker Willie McKay (Keaton) called south to claim a family inheritance, which will plunge him into the middle of the feud. One of the movie's highlights is the train ride south, a wonderful sequence that almost upstages the rest of the film. It's a long, leisurely series of comic snippets that works beautifully both as a period piece and as terrifically inventive comedy. There aren't any spectacular gags, but an impressive collection of amusing incidents and carefully done detail, and it's well worth watching over again to catch it all.

The main part of the film features Buster romancing the pretty young woman he met on the train, while trying to avoid her brothers and father, who are trying to kill him. It's pretty good, but except for a few clever shots most of it is not up to the standard of the first part of the movie. It picks up near the end with a very good chase sequence that has some memorable moments and that brings everything to a climax.

Overall, this is a fine film, enjoyable and well worth watching.

This fine film represents one of the earlier attempts at "dramedy", long before the term was invented. The story has a highly realistic feel to it, yet the funny stuff is never far away.

The film does start a bit slowly as they set up the story, but things pick up quickly once the funny (but true, from an old photo) shot of 1810 Times Square hits the screen.

The little train which takes Buster to Kentucky is a hoot, and THAT is based on the real 1830's deal, too. Movable, bumpy, flimsy tracks and a couple nutty characters and situations are highlights.

My favorite bit in the whole film, though, is when poor Buster realizes the fabulous mansion he thought he was inheriting turned out to be a broken-down shack, ending his dreams in spectacularly explosive fashion.

The story was strong and believable, and the climactic (and very dangerous) scenes at the river and waterfall were amazing. As a matter of fact, these scenes are so impressive, it's easy to forget that they are funny; this is the only reason for me to not give the movie a 10.

Side note to those who have said the poor soundtrack detracted from the film: If you EVER have the opportunity to see this or other silent movies in their proper environment (A glorious movie palace with live musical accompaniment by theatre organ or an orchestra), DO it! The "half-live, half-canned" aspect is very important to the enjoyment of silents. It also keeps any film you've seen many times (as is often the case with "The General" or "Phantom") fresh. Even the same organist doesn't play the same film the same way every time, and a different organist can accompany the film in such a different way that it can almost fool you into thinking you're seeing a new movie.

I'm one of those lucky enough to have done so and there's nothing quite like it.

Our Hospitality is truly a work of art from the silent era. Buster Keaton amazed me with his stunts, which I dare say do not pale in comparison with those of Jackie Chan. The story is filled with wit and suspense. At times you laugh, at times you gasp, at times the world trembles as Keaton delivers death-defying stunts. This is one of the first silent movies I watched in its entirety, and I was thoroughly impressed with the film-making quality. While I wouldn't go as far as to prefer silent movies over their contemporary sound counterpart, I like how soundless movies invite you to pay particular attention to the facial expression--it's all there in the actor's face. I personally prefer Our Hospitality to Keaton's acclaimed "The General."

Our Hospitality, Buster Keaton's second feature film, marks a great leap forward in his art. It's his first truly plot-driven film (his first feature, Three Ages, was deliberately made as three connected two-reelers, with only the loosest plot to hold the gags together.) It was also the first in which he banished any hint of cartoon-style slapstick and made gags take a back-seat to narrative. The slower pace and subtler comedy show Keaton's confidence that he didn't need to clown non-stop to retain the audience's interest. The grand scale and period authenticity look forward to his masterpiece, The General. Buster had always had a serious side, but this was the first time it dominated a film. Consequently, Our Hospitality is not his funniest work, but it has a unique sweetness and charm, rich with atmosphere and drama. The elegant historical setting and fresh outdoor scenery add to the handsome effect, and Buster's performance is particularly graceful and sensitive. Like the engineer he would portray in his best-known film, The General, his character here is a very polite, deceptively mild-mannered young man who can turn into a heroic athlete without even changing his clothes.

Our Hospitality was inspired by the Hatfield-McCoy feud, and the plot involves Buster, as a sheltered young man raised in New York, stumbling into a Southern blood feud when he returns to his ancestral home to claim an inheritance. The joke of the title is that once he enters the home of the rival family, they can't kill him without violating their code of hospitality—until he steps outside! The melodramatic prologue that opens the film comes as a surprise, but it effectively sets up the tension that runs through the story. It's not overplayed, and it includes a cute turn by Buster's infant son, playing the younger incarnation of his own character, Willie McKay. Grown to manhood in New York, Willie is a gentle, foppish type, introduced riding a ludicrous proto-bicycle (accurately based on historical prints of the Gentleman's Hobbyhorse, the first bicycle.) Informed that he has inherited his family's estate, he boards a train for the South.

Buster's main reason for setting the film in 1830 was so that he could indulge his passion for trains by creating a working model of Stephenson's "Rocket," the first locomotive. The train journey proceeds at a fluid, unhurried pace, blending a string of gags arising from obstacles encountered along the way (donkeys, crafty hillbillies, derailments) with a delicate development of romance between Willie and Virginia Canfield, the young woman sharing his coach. Virginia is played by Natalie Talmadge, Buster's wife at the time. She's pretty and appropriately demure, but it's easy to see why she didn't become a star like her sisters Norma and Constance. She looks nervous and insecure in front of the camera. In addition to featuring Buster's wife, son and father (the lanky, irascible train engineer), Our Hospitality was the swan-song of Big Joe Roberts, who played the "heavy" in almost all of Keaton's early films. Already ill during the making of this film (he died shortly after it was completed), he plays the aged, forgiving patriarch of the Canfield clan.

The sequence set in the Canfield mansion, where Virginia invites Willie to dinner (not knowing he is the last remnant of the rival McKay clan), is very funny, playing the murderous feud against a stately, antebellum gentility. I love the way all the men keep one eye open during the saying of grace; Willie's frantic efforts to avoid leaving the house; and his attempts to court Virginia while dealing with her gun-wielding brothers. Once he flees the house, the film shifts into high gear. The long chase, making full use of the rugged landscape, is exciting and contains much dashing stunt-work on Buster's part: his fall off a cliff while tied to another man, his ride through the river rapids (he almost drowned due to a mishap making this scene—and it's in the movie!), culminating in the famous waterfall climax. I don't want to give away exactly what happens: I'll never forget the thrill of seeing it for first time, unprepared. But even without the element of surprise, the beauty of this stunt, the pendulum arc he describes with his body, always takes my breath away.

One final note: contrary to what someone wrote elsewhere on this page, it was not "standard practice" for silent stars to do all their own stunts. Buster Keaton was unique in never using a double, and probably no star ever took greater risks or endured more physical suffering than he did in the interest of his art. But the supreme achievement is how effortless and understated his performances are; he's not showing off, just attending to the task at hand.