The Playhouse
Cast & Crew
Read More
Buster Keaton
Director
Buster Keaton
Virginia Fox
Joe Murphy
Edward F. Cline
Joe Roberts
Film Details
Also Known As
Play House, The
Genre
Silent
Comedy
Fantasy
Short
Release Date
1921
Production Company
Joseph M. Schenck Productions
Distribution Company
Associated First National Pictures
Technical Specs
Duration
23m
Synopsis
Film Details
Also Known As
Play House, The
Genre
Silent
Comedy
Fantasy
Short
Release Date
1921
Production Company
Joseph M. Schenck Productions
Distribution Company
Associated First National Pictures
Technical Specs
Duration
23m
Articles
The Play House (1922) - The Play House (1921)
There is not one Buster Keaton cavorting here, but many. The double- and triple-exposures were challenging enough, but familiar. Keaton was not the first comedian to play two roles on screen at once. By the time he appears ninefold in the same frame, though, we know we're in the presence of something extraordinary.
Georges Melies had done such a thing, back at the dawn of movies, in works like The Melomaniac (1903), but no one before Keaton had attempted something so audacious yet achieved results so seamlessly perfect. Fellow slapstick comedian Charley Chase tried his hand at something similar, playing four versions of himself at once in the Hal Roach talkie short Four Parts (1934), but his duplicates shimmered and vanished at the edges of their overlapping domains. Miraculously, Keaton and his cameraman Elgin Lessley achieved superior results, despite working more than ten years before Chase, in a substantially more primitive environment, with hand-cranked cameras and custom-made equipment designed by Buster himself and given life by newly hired technical wizard Fred Gabourie.
No wonder he told his crew, "Keep this quiet, you lugs!" No point sharing your secrets.
The project had its roots in an accident and an in-joke. The accident: Buster had broken his ankle on the set of The Electric House (1922), and had to suspend production on that short while he healed. Worried about falling behind schedule with his monthly releases, he realized he needed to make a film that found its laughs in something other than his typical pratfalls and physical stunts.
Which brings us to the in-joke: Silent era dramatist Thomas Ince was fabled for taking excessive credits for himself ("Thomas H. Ince presents a Thomas H. Ince production, supervised by Thomas H. Ince"). Keaton poked fun at this egotism by filling the screen with himself, and chuckling "This fellow Keaton seems to be the whole show!"
The result was a mesmerizing surrealism. While that first reel tends to get all the glory and attention, it is in the second reel that things become more personal.
The concept of duplicates follows Buster out of his dreamscape and into a waking dream, where one woman appears to be two, and two men act as one. Mirrors abound, and identity seems to melt like salt in the rain. Buster turns into a monkey--even his humanity is subject to transformation. The monkey is an homage to one of Buster's onetime vaudeville peers, a performing chimp named Peter the Great. Throughout The Play House, Buster makes little nods to his vaudeville past--recreating a few of his old routines in a new medium for a new audience.
But the deepest tribute is not in any single gag, but the concept overall: Buster made his vaudeville debut as a toddler. His parents had an established act, but no babysitter, so they let their baby boy join them on stage, where he proceeded to do what all children do: create havoc. This became the new act for the Three Keatons--Papa Keaton would gamely try to perform some given act, and Buster would unwittingly undermine it. This idea wormed its way deep into Keaton's comic imagination, and throughout his life he returned to it. The Play House is one of the better expressions of that idea, already hashed out once before in Backstage (1919). Time and again Buster would find ways to disrupt someone else's show and bring his unique brand of chaos to the stage: Free and Easy (1930), Speak Easily (1932), The King of the Champs-Elysees (1934), The Silent Partner (1955), Hollywood Cavalcade (1939), even to 2 Marines and a General, one of his last feature appearances in 1966.
The Play House was the fulfillment of Buster's original 8-picture contract. It was such a hit that he was hastily and enthusiastically signed for another dozen.
Producer: Joseph M. Schenck (uncredited)
Director: Buster Keaton; Edward F. Cline (uncredited)
Screenplay: Edward F. Cline, Buster Keaton
Cinematography: Elgin Lessley (uncredited)
Music: Robert Israel (1995)
Film Editing: Buster Keaton (uncredited)
Cast: Buster Keaton (Audience/Orchestra/Mr. Brown, First Minstrel/Second Minstrel/Interctors/Stagehand), Edward F. Cline (Orangutan trainer, uncredited), Virginia Fox (Twin, uncredited), Joe Murphy (One of the Zouaves, uncredited), Joe Roberts (Actor-Stage Manager, uncredited).
BW-22m.
by David Kalat
Sources:
Buster Keaton and Charles Samuels, Buster Keaton: My Wonderful World of Slapstick.
Edward McPherson, Buster Keaton: Tempest in a Flat Hat.
Gabriella Oldham, Keaton's Silent Shorts: Beyond the Laughter.
Joanna E. Rapf and Gary L. Green, Buster Keaton: A Bio-Bibliography.
David Robinson, Buster Keaton.
Imogen Sara Smith, Buster Keaton: The Persistence of Comedy.
Kevin W. Sweeney, Buster Keaton Interviews.
The Play House (1922) - The Play House (1921)
The opening reel of The Play House is as sustained a sequence of comic innovation and cinematic craftsmanship as anything ever filmed.
There is not one Buster Keaton cavorting here, but many. The double- and triple-exposures were challenging enough, but familiar. Keaton was not the first comedian to play two roles on screen at once. By the time he appears ninefold in the same frame, though, we know we're in the presence of something extraordinary.
Georges Melies had done such a thing, back at the dawn of movies, in works like The Melomaniac (1903), but no one before Keaton had attempted something so audacious yet achieved results so seamlessly perfect. Fellow slapstick comedian Charley Chase tried his hand at something similar, playing four versions of himself at once in the Hal Roach talkie short Four Parts (1934), but his duplicates shimmered and vanished at the edges of their overlapping domains. Miraculously, Keaton and his cameraman Elgin Lessley achieved superior results, despite working more than ten years before Chase, in a substantially more primitive environment, with hand-cranked cameras and custom-made equipment designed by Buster himself and given life by newly hired technical wizard Fred Gabourie.
No wonder he told his crew, "Keep this quiet, you lugs!" No point sharing your secrets.
The project had its roots in an accident and an in-joke. The accident: Buster had broken his ankle on the set of The Electric House (1922), and had to suspend production on that short while he healed. Worried about falling behind schedule with his monthly releases, he realized he needed to make a film that found its laughs in something other than his typical pratfalls and physical stunts.
Which brings us to the in-joke: Silent era dramatist Thomas Ince was fabled for taking excessive credits for himself ("Thomas H. Ince presents a Thomas H. Ince production, supervised by Thomas H. Ince"). Keaton poked fun at this egotism by filling the screen with himself, and chuckling "This fellow Keaton seems to be the whole show!"
The result was a mesmerizing surrealism. While that first reel tends to get all the glory and attention, it is in the second reel that things become more personal.
The concept of duplicates follows Buster out of his dreamscape and into a waking dream, where one woman appears to be two, and two men act as one. Mirrors abound, and identity seems to melt like salt in the rain. Buster turns into a monkey--even his humanity is subject to transformation. The monkey is an homage to one of Buster's onetime vaudeville peers, a performing chimp named Peter the Great. Throughout The Play House, Buster makes little nods to his vaudeville past--recreating a few of his old routines in a new medium for a new audience.
But the deepest tribute is not in any single gag, but the concept overall: Buster made his vaudeville debut as a toddler. His parents had an established act, but no babysitter, so they let their baby boy join them on stage, where he proceeded to do what all children do: create havoc. This became the new act for the Three Keatons--Papa Keaton would gamely try to perform some given act, and Buster would unwittingly undermine it. This idea wormed its way deep into Keaton's comic imagination, and throughout his life he returned to it. The Play House is one of the better expressions of that idea, already hashed out once before in Backstage (1919). Time and again Buster would find ways to disrupt someone else's show and bring his unique brand of chaos to the stage: Free and Easy (1930), Speak Easily (1932), The King of the Champs-Elysees (1934), The Silent Partner (1955), Hollywood Cavalcade (1939), even to 2 Marines and a General, one of his last feature appearances in 1966.
The Play House was the fulfillment of Buster's original 8-picture contract. It was such a hit that he was hastily and enthusiastically signed for another dozen.
Producer: Joseph M. Schenck (uncredited)
Director: Buster Keaton; Edward F. Cline (uncredited)
Screenplay: Edward F. Cline, Buster Keaton
Cinematography: Elgin Lessley (uncredited)
Music: Robert Israel (1995)
Film Editing: Buster Keaton (uncredited)
Cast: Buster Keaton (Audience/Orchestra/Mr. Brown, First Minstrel/Second Minstrel/Interctors/Stagehand), Edward F. Cline (Orangutan trainer, uncredited), Virginia Fox (Twin, uncredited), Joe Murphy (One of the Zouaves, uncredited), Joe Roberts (Actor-Stage Manager, uncredited).
BW-22m.
by David Kalat
Sources:
Buster Keaton and Charles Samuels, Buster Keaton: My Wonderful World of Slapstick.
Edward McPherson, Buster Keaton: Tempest in a Flat Hat.
Gabriella Oldham, Keaton's Silent Shorts: Beyond the Laughter.
Joanna E. Rapf and Gary L. Green, Buster Keaton: A Bio-Bibliography.
David Robinson, Buster Keaton.
Imogen Sara Smith, Buster Keaton: The Persistence of Comedy.
Kevin W. Sweeney, Buster Keaton Interviews.
Industrial Strength Keaton - Rare Shorts and Footage of the "Great Stone Face" on DVD
Industrial Strength Keaton is an odds-and-ends compilation along the lines of Kino's Keaton Plus, and it's been assembled and packaged with an affection for both Keaton and his fans. The industrial theme has been carried over to the graphics of the packaging and onscreen menus, which have a washer/detergent theme to them (a graphic splash on the box promises, "Now with… more deadpan!"). There's also an essay-filled, 20-page booklet and audio commentaries by several of the film historians and comedy buffs who've penned the essays. And while the two features on Industrial Strength Keaton (the so-so 1931 farce Parlor, Bedroom and Bath from his MGM downward spiral and the generally joyless, English-made An Old Spanish Custom) are barely worth one viewing, these discs dig up interesting oddities.
The first disc includes Keaton appearances in a trio of studio promotional shorts from the 1920s and 1930s, but it's the second disc that is the more satisfying hodgepodge. After getting a career boost through his late-1940s TV show (a local Los Angeles program that went national), Keaton was a frequent face on variety shows and in commercials and industrial films until his 1966 death. Industrial Strength Keaton has a strong sampling of Buster's work in these media, starting with three TV recreations of the "can of molasses" bit he first did in The Butcher Boy, the Fatty Arbuckle short that was Keaton's very first film (look for character actor extraordinaire Billy Gilbert as his straight man in one of them). Similarly, his 1956 appearance on The Martha Raye Show reworks his big scene in Charlie Chaplin's Limelight, with Raye taking Chaplin's part.
As you can tell, Keaton's comedy in the 1950s and 1960s was pretty backward-looking, which actually is a little disappointing. Even second-rate talkies like Parlor, Bedroom and Bath show that Keaton had good verbal timing and a terse voice that fit his deadpan persona well. But, for whatever reason, in the last 15 years of his life, Keaton plied his wares as a silent comic in a talkie world. That was his schtick, and what made him marketable. Of course, how many 60-year-olds (or 30-year-olds) were as physically gifted at comedy as Keaton and could take a pratfall as well as he could? He is still very funny in the many commercials collected on Industrial Strength Keaton, for such products as Alka-Seltzer, Simon Pure Beer and Jeep. With their quick hits and sight gags, these national and regional ads provide some of the biggest laughs on these discs and make wise use of Keaton's subtle facial expressions, amusing body language and daredevil falls.
While the commercials are all solid, there's more of a variety in quality in the three industrials on the collection. They're all about the length of an old two-reeler, and employ Keaton as part of their "soft sell" approach. But 1961's The Home Owner, a Phoenix real-estate developer's sales film that resurfaced only in 1999, is clearly the best of the bunch. Professionally shot, in bright color, it has a relaxed pace that lets Keaton build up his gags well. Playing what might be best described as a "funny little man," as he often does in the commercials and industrials, Buster is a prospective customer being shown the various model homes in the Maryvale development in Phoenix. The lawns, appliances and the distraction presented by a shapely blond give Keaton plenty of set-ups to pratfalls. Aside from Keaton's contributions, this film is also a remarkable document of Space Age optimism and migration into the southwest (film historian Richard Roberts explains how he unearthed it in his audio commentary, too).
The Devil to Pay is clearly the least of the industrials here, simply because, unlike The Home Owner, this clunky National Association of Wholesalers film does such a poor job of integrating Keaton into its premise. He's almost superfluous to it, and his presence is too contrived to ever be amusing. Somewhere in between is the Kodak promo filmThe Triumph of Lester Snapwell, in which Buster plays an amateur photographer through the decades. He takes some wild tumbles in his photographic quests, though even more so than in The Home Owner or some of the commercials, making a 25-year-old blonde the would-be fiancée of 67-year-old Keaton seems creepy, especially since her cranky mother is also a character (and the actress playing her was younger than Buster). Ironically, the color in the Kodak film is very faded.
Keaton completists will no doubt be thrilled with Industrial Strength Keaton, while less ardent fans can also enjoy some rare Buster, too. Some of it you'll never want to watch again, but this collection is so generous, there's still a lot to like.
For more information about Industrial Strength Keaton, visit MacKinac Media. To order Industrial Strength Keaton, go to TCM Shopping.
by Paul Sherman
Industrial Strength Keaton - Rare Shorts and Footage of the "Great Stone Face" on DVD
The 2-disc Industrial Strength Keaton DVD
is not intended as an introduction to Buster Keaton's
work. If you haven't already seen The General,
Steamboat Bill, Jr., The Cameraman or
Seven Chances, you should seek out those 1920s
features before even thinking about experiencing this
compilation. Taking its name from its abundance of 1950s
and 1960s commercials and industrial films in which
Keaton appeared, it contains only one release from
Keaton's heyday: a slightly restored version of the
wonderful 1921 short The Playhouse, which opens
with a famous sequence in which Keaton plays everyone
onstage and offstage in a vaudeville theater.
Industrial Strength Keaton is an odds-and-ends
compilation along the lines of Kino's Keaton Plus,
and it's been assembled and packaged with an affection
for both Keaton and his fans. The industrial theme has
been carried over to the graphics of the packaging and
onscreen menus, which have a washer/detergent theme to
them (a graphic splash on the box promises, "Now with…
more deadpan!"). There's also an essay-filled, 20-page
booklet and audio commentaries by several of the film
historians and comedy buffs who've penned the essays. And
while the two features on Industrial Strength
Keaton (the so-so 1931 farce Parlor, Bedroom and
Bath from his MGM downward spiral and the generally
joyless, English-made An Old Spanish Custom) are
barely worth one viewing, these discs dig up interesting
oddities.
The first disc includes Keaton appearances in a trio of
studio promotional shorts from the 1920s and 1930s, but
it's the second disc that is the more satisfying
hodgepodge. After getting a career boost through his
late-1940s TV show (a local Los Angeles program that went
national), Keaton was a frequent face on variety shows
and in commercials and industrial films until his 1966
death. Industrial Strength Keaton has a strong
sampling of Buster's work in these media, starting with
three TV recreations of the "can of molasses" bit he
first did in The Butcher Boy, the Fatty Arbuckle
short that was Keaton's very first film (look for
character actor extraordinaire Billy Gilbert as his
straight man in one of them). Similarly, his 1956
appearance on The Martha Raye Show reworks his big
scene in Charlie Chaplin's Limelight, with Raye
taking Chaplin's part.
As you can tell, Keaton's comedy in the 1950s and 1960s
was pretty backward-looking, which actually is a little
disappointing. Even second-rate talkies like Parlor,
Bedroom and Bath show that Keaton had good verbal
timing and a terse voice that fit his deadpan persona
well. But, for whatever reason, in the last 15 years of
his life, Keaton plied his wares as a silent comic in a
talkie world. That was his schtick, and what made him
marketable. Of course, how many 60-year-olds (or
30-year-olds) were as physically gifted at comedy as
Keaton and could take a pratfall as well as he could? He
is still very funny in the many commercials collected on
Industrial Strength Keaton, for such products as
Alka-Seltzer, Simon Pure Beer and Jeep. With their quick
hits and sight gags, these national and regional ads
provide some of the biggest laughs on these discs and
make wise use of Keaton's subtle facial expressions,
amusing body language and daredevil falls.
While the commercials are all solid, there's more of a
variety in quality in the three industrials on the
collection. They're all about the length of an old
two-reeler, and employ Keaton as part of their "soft
sell" approach. But 1961's The Home Owner, a
Phoenix real-estate developer's sales film that
resurfaced only in 1999, is clearly the best of the
bunch. Professionally shot, in bright color, it has a
relaxed pace that lets Keaton build up his gags well.
Playing what might be best described as a "funny little
man," as he often does in the commercials and
industrials, Buster is a prospective customer being shown
the various model homes in the Maryvale development in
Phoenix. The lawns, appliances and the distraction
presented by a shapely blond give Keaton plenty of
set-ups to pratfalls. Aside from Keaton's contributions,
this film is also a remarkable document of Space Age
optimism and migration into the southwest (film historian
Richard Roberts explains how he unearthed it in his audio
commentary, too).
The Devil to Pay is clearly the least of the
industrials here, simply because, unlike The Home
Owner, this clunky National Association of
Wholesalers film does such a poor job of integrating
Keaton into its premise. He's almost superfluous to it,
and his presence is too contrived to ever be amusing.
Somewhere in between is the Kodak promo filmThe
Triumph of Lester Snapwell, in which Buster plays an
amateur photographer through the decades. He takes some
wild tumbles in his photographic quests, though even more
so than in The Home Owner or some of the
commercials, making a 25-year-old blonde the would-be
fiancée of 67-year-old Keaton seems creepy, especially
since her cranky mother is also a character (and the
actress playing her was younger than Buster). Ironically,
the color in the Kodak film is very faded.
Keaton completists will no doubt be thrilled with
Industrial Strength Keaton, while less ardent fans
can also enjoy some rare Buster, too. Some of it you'll
never want to watch again, but this collection is so
generous, there's still a lot to like.
For more information about Industrial Strength
Keaton, visit MacKinac Media. To order Industrial Strength Keaton, go to
TCM Shopping.
by Paul Sherman