An Amateur Watches The General

A 1927 Blog-a-thon Contributory Post

Julie and I watched The General this weekend. This is the first silent film I’ve ever seen in its entirety. I decided, as I am not versed in film technique not the history of the era, to approach it with a modern eye. Not a jaundiced, cynical one, however, as I had heard good things and expected to be entertained. I am writing with an eye to others with this unfamiliarity; so expect some recapping in here with my thoughts.

For those who haven’t seen the film, Johnny Gray (Buster Keaton) is a train engineer in an unspecified Southern location—though it must be near Chattanooga—when Ft. Sumter is fired upon. As the woman he is a-courtin’ has a father and brother who enlist, she insists he does as well—though when he tries, they refuse him--he is too valuable as a train engineer to the logistical effort. Naturally, his woman snubs him and doesn’t want to speak to him “until he is wearing a uniform.” Some time later, his train—which unbeknownst to him, carries his beloved as a passenger—is hijacked by a Union special ops squad, which intends to destroy the supplies therein and the supply line to the front. Gray grabs a separate engine to pursue, and hijinks ensue.

My first though was to wonder why our heroes were Confederates. Was it not as hard to sympathize with the Southern cause in those days? Nothing really awful is ever portrayed—it could have been any two warring sides, and the attempts by both the Union and later Gray to damage the rail lines to hold up supplies are certainly within standards of war. The only black persons I saw were unloading passengers just before the hijacking. But as I think back to the pro-South portrayal in Birth of a Nation--which I’ve also on read about—I’m curious about the turn-of-the-century view of the Civil War. Or, as I should say residing in Virginia, the War between the States.

My next impression, as a modern viewer, was that the best analog to what Keaton was doing might be a Jackie Chan film. This isn’t a comedy so much as an action adventure film that doesn’t take itself seriously—the comedy comes from the haplessness of our hero, and the times he and the Union soldiers are victims of physical gags. Specifically, what made me think of Chan films was the elaborate use of objects from the background environment. At one point, Gray leaves the line from a water tank, soaking his pursuers; in another, he gets a fun sight gag out of attempting to steal fence rails twice as long as he is tall for locomotive fuels. It strikes me as amazingly kinetic film for the times—although, as I said, I haven’t seen a lot of the silent comedies. The dual train chases give extended energy to the audience, like a beat that causes you to drive a little faster. While the set pieces are funny, they are also amazing in a way that makes you grin rather than chortle. I felt more like it was a fun ride that make me smile, than a side-spliter in which the plot steered me to the next laugh.

I was also struck by the brilliance of Keaton’s portrayal of Gray’s innocent bewilderment at events around him. Several times, he attempts to deal with a problem or obstruction, only to solve it (or for it to resolve itself) while his back is turned. For example, his engine starts to move without him, or a car blocking his way switches to a side track without him seeing. His confused look really sells his predicament to the audience.

The last thing that I wanted to mention was the clever way pieces of the film meshed into each other—very little was extraneous or unrelated to anything else. Not to give away (any more) of the best bits, but the uniform line I quoted above is not left without a callback, and several important discoveries or successes for Gray are set up by previous serendipitous failures or difficulties. There’s an economy to this film that encourages you to take it all in along the way.

OK, if you haven’t seen this, I can’t recommend it strongly enough. The disc Julie received from Netflix also had two other shorter pieces from Keaton on it (The Playhouse and Cops), both of which were brilliant as well. Seemed to be a 1995 copyright, if you’re casting about at your favorite rental or purchase place.

Baseball in the Newsreel

A 1927 Blog-a-thon Contributory Post

So when you say to me “1927” I immediately think of the Yankees, whose edition that year was one of the most dominant in baseball history; and of Babe Ruth’s 60 home runs that year. So I figure there’s got to be some newsreel footage right? Images abound; see Gehrig and Ruth, circa 1927, to the right.

Well, Paramount newsreels started in 1927, so close enough. I couldn’t find a good online archive, but the book Reel Baseball, with its included documentary, comes close. Well, as close as 1933, and having the 1927 Yankees lineup in the background at Lou Gehrig Day at Yankee Stadium (“Today…I consider myself luckiest man…on the face of the Earth.”) So, herein find some brief thoughts on how America’s pastime was experienced by the masses via the cinema, and Ruth in particular.

One thing that struck me is how this must have been the Sportscenter of the day—only far more intermittent. The narration is clearly trying to tell stories that establish our heroes, and surprisingly I found the attempts to be witty in a similar vane to highlight shows now—although, far less snarky, disparaging, or sarcastic. It was a time when the media gladly overlooked the moral failings of sports heroes—the tale of Ducky Medwick’s vicious spiking of Mickey Owen in the 1934 World Series, which led disgusted Tigers fans to pelt him with fruit—is told with a “that’s baseball” wink and a nod.

There are lots of World Series and All-Star game highlights in the 1933-1965 time frame covered on this documentary, but less in between—mostly commemorations and stunts (e.g., Bob Feller throwing fastballs through an Army device which tested the speed of artillery shells, and measured his fastball at 98 miles per hour). One such stunt was a wartime exhibition between Babe Ruth (in his late forties) and Walter Johnson (in his fifties.) Ruth looks mostly like you remember him, even then, although his swing is obviously slower and his timing is way off. Ruth looks (and sounds) much worse later, in footage of him playing Santa Claus in the late 40s, when the throat cancer which would eventually kill him must have been progressing. I’m sure he loved entertaining kids, but I don’t know how well a raspy voiced Santa with a beard that wouldn’t stay put was taken—the kids don’t look entirely thrilled.

But of course, even that footage of how we remember Ruth betrays what he was—he had let the hot dogs and booze soften him around the middle by then, and the mental image most have is of a pudgy, swing from the heels type. He was, of course, much more than that; had he stayed a pitcher his whole career he probably would have been a Hall of Famer for that alone, and early in his career he was a tremendous defender and graceful base stealer as well. Compare his face in this photo from his Red Sox days and this wallpaper from the Baseball Hall of Fame.

I talk in a post below about how I’d disagree with this as a “golden age” of baseball; I think that’s a sentiment of those who tend to romanticize the past and overlook its flaws. But in ways, it was a magical time for the cinema and baseball. Unless you lived in the Northeast or Midwest, you didn’t have major league baseball for most of this time. In 1927—and through 1953, when the Boston Braves moved to Milwaukee--Teams were in New York (3), Boston (2), Philadelphia (2), Washington, Pittsburgh, Cincinnati, Cleveland, Detroit, Chicago (2), and St. Louis (2). The rest of the country only saw footage in their theaters.

Did this contribute to the larger than life status of baseball stars, as they were only literally seen that way? Did the associations get made with other famous stars, images of far-off locales (that were really studio lots), and epic tales of valor and romance to elevate baseball to America’s game in the rest of the country as well? I’ll argue it helped, but despite a lack of major league baseball, there were plenty of regional leagues in the south and west, and these minor leagues, at that time, were not the farm system we know today—they were independent, scouted and signed their own players, and while they passed them up to better teams in exchange for fees, they could make local heroes of their own. But the newsreels did bring the top players, the best of the best (save for the color line) to most of America, and no doubt contributed to the sense of wonder.

As a mini "Shameful Book Report," I highly recommend to the baseball fans with a sense of history getting a copy of Reel Baseball from your local library--the documentary CD with the actual footage is certainly worth it, as it contains tons of footage of famous plays you've heard about (e.g., Al Gionfriddo's catch in the 1947 World Series) but probably only seen stills of. A very entertaining hour spent. The book doesn't contain a lot of info I didn't know already, but that's because I've read it before. If you know someone just getting into pre-War and early post-War baseball history, I think it would be a good pickup.

Notes and Preview

The rest of Denver went alright, though I fought off the cold all last week down here at sea level, only to see it or another one move into my head in the last couple of days. Bleah. I will get pictures, such as they are, up at some point. I'm not a photojournalist.

I got a personal invite to contribute to John McCain's Presidential bid exploratory committee! Since they sent me a free return envelope for my check, I imagine I'll send him some unsolicited advice. Perhaps I'll post it here.


In other news, I'll be participating in goatdog's 1927 Blogathon. I'm afraid it might be a somewhat tenuous connection; my first thoughts of 1927, of course, turn to Ruth and the Yankees, and I thought I'd do something on the rise of Ruth's popularity with the newsreels--and low and behold, I find Paramount News started in 1927. Aha! I thought. Well, I found a disappointing lack of good material on the Internets, and then got busy with APS and such and forgot to do my homework. I did snag a copy of Reel Baseball (see the Booklist) from the library (sadly, Fairfax County, not the Library of Alexandria) but they sat on the hold for a couple of days, so I just got it tonight. Wherein I discover that none of the footage on the DVD appears to be from Paramount, and the earliest is from 1933.

Too bad. I'll make it stretch.

Let me disagree here, though, with the book's contention that this was baseball's Golden Age. First, that's tough to say the black and white footage included on the DVD doesn't need much black to show the players for half of the "Golden Age" time frame. Second, the very fact that the newsreels were the prime means most fans saw baseball belies this notion--how is it not better with major league teams from coast to coast, minor league ball affordable and available all over, Baseball Tonight for your moving picture highlights, and the vast majority of games available for your enjoyment on Internet radio, Internet TV, or cable/satellite package, if you can pony up the cash?

Of course, that's my opinion before more than a cursory flip through the book. I want to read it and watch the footage before defining the thread of my post/essay. Just wanted to get that criticism out so I can be more positive and thoughtful.

Hello Down There

You know what Denver needs? Oxygen.

I kid, but in retrospect, asthma + chest cold + thin air = not so fun. It's better today--I seemed to cough a lot of it out this morning--but I'm using my inhaler like crazy, feeling quite winded after little exertion--even taking my decidedly non-Olympic conditioning into account--and looking up symptoms of altitude sickness (not showing any, other than the getting winded, which happens to me astmatic lungs at sea level.)

Anyway, the talk went pretty well. It wasn't great work, so that brought it down, but I pulled it off smoothly.

So far, I've gotten 3 free meals...two hotel breakfasts (hot, not Continental) and one lunch sprung for by one of my old professors. This frees up the budget for $16 scotch. About a shot and a half worth, but still. I'd have stayed and tried more of their huge selection, but it was also a cigar bar, so I didn't need anything more coming between me and sweet, sweet oxygen.

I have some time tomorrow and Thursday slated for siteseeing, so I hope to get some picks of the mountains from the state capitol, the Coors Field exterior, and anything else that suits me. I already have a pic of the two-story blue bear that seems to be looking inside the convention center for snacks.

Speaking of the convention center, it's the only one of seen, out of all these March Meetings, that has prominent ads in the concourses for local gentlemen's clubs. Guess they're not going to get a lot of NOW conventions.

Rocky Mountain High....

Now that you've got that stuck in your head, time to report that I'm off to Denver tomorrow (later today) for the American Physical Society March Meeting. I'll try to blog if I can (and I'm taking song suggestions) but we'll see how connectivity goes. And also, how my oxygen supply holds up at altitude. Anyone know the experiences of Colorado asthmatics?