Fatty, l'intrépide shérif

As I have said often before, anyone who is a good cowboy is at the top of the movie profession. And Roscoe Arbuckle was a very good cowboy. Even if he was a sheriff, not a cowboy.

He knew how to mount his horse and seemed to be a good rider.

In fact, his acting was much better than would be expected by someone who knew only his knock-about and frequently hokey and silly comedies.

(When TCM presented "The Round-Up" on 18 October 2015, it was followed immediately by another example of good acting in "Life of the Party," a probably unfortunate title considering his acting career was ended by an incident at a party in his hotel room in San Francisco shortly afterward.)

All the actors, most of whom today are unknown, were excellent, and the directing included some great moving camera work.

"The Round-Up" is a wonderful surprise because Arbuckle, known entirely for comedy, played a (granted mild) dramatic role, but he pulled it off and reportedly audiences bought tickets.

So, it's a western and I'd buy a ticket, but it's such a good role for and by Roscoe Arbuckle I'd buy another ticket to see it again. And I highly recommend "The Round-Up" both for what it is, a very well-done movie, and for what most people wouldn't expect, a very good (sort of) dramatic performance by Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle.

So Joe Schenck cut a great deal with Paramount to get Arbuckle into features. And as long as they were paying him an amazing sum of money, they gave him a role in this western until they could get a comedy vehicle ready for him. Paramount got its money's worth out of its stars by putting them in a LOT of movies.

Roscoe is pretty good in a largely straight role here. It's a supporting role in the midst of eight or nine major plots, but built up a bit because Arbuckle is the biggest star here. He gets to do his signature cigarette-rolling gag. If you've never seen it, look for it.

But what makes this movie a joy is that director George Melford was a great stylist and knew where to tell his cameramen to point the camera: keep the mountains in the picture, that's an amazing bunch of rocks, and so on. And, frankly, the print I saw, from the Library of Congress, is a wonderful print: plenty of silver in the print, no scratches and just enough granularity to make the stars shimmer. It's the most beautiful black-and-white print I've seen in at least 15 years. If you get a chance to see it, take it. When someone says "they don't make 'em like that anymore" sometimes they're referring to the actual piece of film.