Film (1965) User Reviews

Buster Keaton visits the Twilight Zone

[wmorrow59 · 8/10 · 13 August 2005]

The situation is simple, so simple that no words are needed. An old man wearing a flat hat and a tattered overcoat is rushing along next to a wall in a bleak urban landscape, near a bridge. He moves hurriedly, head down, doggedly trying to hide his face from everyone he encounters. It is soon apparent that, in addition to hiding his face from passersby, the old man seems to be aware of the camera following him and is attempting to hide his face from "us," i.e. the camera lens itself. On the stairwell in his run-down apartment building he hides his face from the old lady on the stairs -- is she the landlady? -- and rushes into his apartment like a man pursued. Once he is safe in his room he makes every effort to shut out the world. He covers his mirror, removes a portrait from the wall, and recoils from anything that resembles an observing eye, including the decorative circles on the back of his rocking chair, and the circular clasps of a large manila envelope. The old man even refuses to make eye contact with his pets (a dog, a cat, a bird, and a fish) and either puts them out of the room or blocks them from view. Seated, he looks at several photographs, presumably of family members, and tears each one neatly in two, after which he nods off in the chair. As he dozes, "we" (i.e. the camera) circle around and sneak up on him, and finally get a look at his wizened face. The old man awakens, realizes that he has been seen, and reacts with horror. He covers his face with his gnarled hands.

This experimental short was written by Samuel Beckett, and directed by his frequent stage collaborator Alan Schneider. The actor they cast in the lead was not their first choice for the role, but his haunting presence is a key reason why this film called "Film" is still remembered and frequently screened today: the old man is 68 year-old Buster Keaton, who at this point in his career was more commonly seen in TV commercials, variety show guest shots, and occasional movie cameos. This was not at all a typical gig for Buster, nor was it a routine project for Beckett, who was more inclined to write for the stage or radio. Beckett had wanted to work with Keaton several years earlier, when he offered him the role of Estragon in the American stage premiere of "Waiting for Godot," but Buster turned it down and the role went to Bert Lahr. It's said that Buster didn't understand "Godot" and had misgivings about this script as well, but for whatever reason he agreed to star in Beckett's first movie. It's a good thing, too, for even with his face hidden he brings dignity, comic nobility, and the weight of his personal history to the proceedings. Keaton represents his era, carrying the mantle of the battered but unbowed silent clown in this all-but-silent movie. Aside from a single sound effect (a whispered "Sh-h-h-h!") the soundtrack is entirely silent, while the grainy black-and-white stock used for filming is evocative of early cinema. What happens here is not really suggestive of Buster's own early work, but there is a beautifully characteristic sequence when the old man tries to put out his dog and then his cat, only to have each animal slip back in as he attempts to put out the other. Both Beckett and Schneider pronounced themselves more than pleased with Keaton's performance: the latter called him "magnificent."

My reaction to this movie has changed with the passage of time. When I first saw it years ago I found it interesting, but also kind of exasperating; I was frustrated I couldn't see Buster's expression. Now I'm struck by the film's directness and simplicity, and recognize that even a glimpse of the old man's face along the way would kill the impact when the moment of truth finally arrives. Samuel Beckett told an interviewer that the movie was "about a man trying to escape from perception of all kinds -- from all perceivers -- even divine perceivers." In between takes on the set near the Brooklyn Bridge the lead player told a reporter something similar, summarizing the theme as "a man may keep away from everybody but he can't get away from himself." I can't say it better than that and I'm not going to try. I'll simply note that we can be grateful Buster Keaton agreed to take part in this unusual project, a seemingly unlikely collaboration that in my opinion has aged beautifully.

Eyes

[ackstasis · 8/10 · 19 November 2008]

It couldn't have escaped the filmmakers' attention that, at the time of shooting, Buster Keaton was less than two years from death. One of Hollywood's greatest silent comedians, an everyman who captured the hearts of cinema-goers worldwide, had largely been neglected for the past thirty years, and was surviving largely through bit parts and cameo appearances in both film and television, though, to his credit, Buster always gave his all. Samuel Beckett's only screenplay, 'Film (1965),' was directed by Alan Schneider, and is a heartbreaking coda to Keaton's entertainment career, an unspeakably sad and tragic examination of one man's waining life. It's not a comedy; or, rather, it's the sort of comedy that makes you smile through tears, rather like Chaplin's 'Limelight (1952),' though substantially more experimental in style and tone. Almost entirely silent – there's neither dialogue nor music – 'Film' features Keaton as a poor, aging man who lives out his tired days in a battered apartment, avoiding, whenever possible, the gazes and judgement of both others and himself.

Some viewers may find it exasperating that, for the bulk of the film's 20-minute running time, the Great Stone Face keeps his face hidden from view. However, symbolically, this works to the film's favour. In his attempts to escape from the judgement of others, Keaton is even evading the prying, voyeuristic eye of the camera, which represents, not only us, but himself. At the film's end, when he falls asleep, having disarmed the inquiring eyes of even his pets and inanimate furniture, the camera sneaks surreptitiously around the room and looks directly into Keaton's grizzled, withering face, and Keaton wakes up to see --- himself! Beckett, when asked to provide a lay-man's interpretations for the film, offered the following: "It's a movie about the perceiving eye, about the perceived and the perceiver – two aspects of the same man. The perceiver desires like mad to perceive and the perceived tries desperately to hide. Then, in the end, one wins." In a nutshell, 'Film' is about wanting to understand one's own life, but being afraid of what you will discover.

Watching Buster Keaton here really does remind you of what a remarkable silent comedian he once was. Even without the additional benefit of his deadpan facial expressions, his every movement is quietly humorous. Keaton ambles along the road in that characteristic shuffle of his, still sporting that signature porkpie hat, doing his utmost to keep his faced obscured from passers-by. Every so often, he pauses to check his pulse, perhaps anticipating that moment when the pain of living will pester him no more. He avoids windows; he covers up mirrors; he, in one particularly hilarious sequence (suggested by Keaton himself), tries to evict his wide-eyed pets from the apartment, only to have them trot back into the room when he's not looking. He looks at old photographs – himself as a baby, as a graduating student, as a young husband, as a father – but nostalgia gives way to resentment at a more recent image of his older, tired face. Keaton, as usual, underplays every action and emotion, harbouring a deep sadness beneath every gesture and movement.

E and O

[klausming · 8/10 · 26 April 2017]

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).

Tidbits

[matthewjbond · 9 February 2007]

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.

Superb silent movie star with excellent director gives Beckett his due!

[arvid-kleppe · 10/10 · 15 September 2005]

This is one of the most rewarding short films I have ever seen - and I have seen many! - and it haunts me even now, more than 35 years after I saw it for the first (and only) time. That was during a cinema club season in Bergen, Norway, where part of the program was a "short film night" devoted to silent movies, short movies, and various combinations of these. The audience was clearly confused, since "Film" was obviously not what most had expected. And in company with "Nosferatu" (l922), "Freaks" (1932) and "Terminus" (1961 - a documentary of a British railway station) it did strike a very different chord than sheer horror and sober facts did.

Beckett's work at that time was slowly gaining ground in Norway, as did Pinter's - trying to promote either was an uphill task in a mountainous country unused to modern drama and more tuned to sports. The discussions in a seminar after the showing proved this... But this resistance to something obviously alien did not detract from my pleasure (and several others') in relishing a masterpiece, where nothing could have been improved on. A book called "Film by Samuel Beckett" was published by Faber in 1971, and generously offers complete scenario and a profusion of illustrations and production shots. It has also comments by Beckett and an essay by Schneider, and is a useful substitute for anybody without access to the Film itself.

Agreeing with other commentators, I can only say that this is really an absorbing and disturbing experience - quite unique! And one that leaves you thinking and wondering and shuddering for a long time.

Beckett's unique vision

[LGwriter49 · 9/10 · 21 December 2001]

Samuel Beckett's only film--appropriately titled Film--is a short (26 minutes) near-silent piece. Because of that, and because the work invokes the feel of the silent era, albeit in Beckett's peculiar way, it's perfectly fitting that Beckett chose Buster Keaton as the main character (for almost the entire film, the only character). The black-and-white photography, the old furniture, and the peculiar garments of the just-as-old apartment building's tenants all contribute to the mise-en-scene that harkens back to a time when automobiles had only been around for about 20 or 30 years.

There's a perfect link of Beckett's intense focus on the self with Keaton's now-wizened features. When the screen is filled with Keaton's eye alone, you can see the wrinkles surrounding it; you can tell Beckett has more in mind than just doing a close-up. As Keaton arranges and rearranges the things in his sparse living quarters, and goes through pictures of himself, often hiding from the camera, you begin to see what's going on: is he, the character, only who he sees in the mirror, and in pictures, or is he other than that?

For this emphasis on the solipsistic, the length of Film is perfect. Any longer and it could have been a bit tedious. But Keaton lends it a few touches of his by now archetypal humor--wholly improvised--which Beckett found delightful, and Alan Schneider, the director, applauded. This is a unique work that any serious student of film should have in her/his library. It was formerly included in a VHS collection of Keaton's work but now, alas, does not seem to be available any longer.

Buster Meets Becket

[theowinthrop · 10/10 · 15 February 2008]

It was really somewhat unique in the history of film comedy. I can only think of one near miss on a similar level, and in that case the artist involved had made movies.

Samuel Becket, dramatist, novelist, secretary to James Joyce, and Nobel Literary Lauriate, loved comedy. His first and greatest play, WAITING FOR GODOT has a pair of hobos (Vladimir and Estragon) who in the course of the play frequently do music hall turns reminiscent of Laurel & Hardy among others. Others have situations that are certainly odd in a striking and comic manner (like one woman who is half buried in sand throughout a one act play). In the hands of a lesser writer these oddities would vaguely amuse, but Becket structured his comic turns and sight gags to have a value in the themes of his plays, so that gradually (even as we are amused) we are fascinated and learn of aspects of the human race we frequently bury or try to ignore. "Shall we go?", one of the two hobos says to the other as WAITING FOR GODOT ends. Godot (God? The Wonderful Future? The Messiah?) is not coming as they hope. "Yes," says the other hobo, "Let's go!". They stand perfectly still as the curtain goes down - and that conclusion makes perfect sense to the audience.

When he wrote WAITING FOR GODOT, Becket offered it to Buster Keaton. Keaton's career had revived, especially after his duet with Charlie Chaplin in LIMELIGHT. But Keaton was uncertain about doing it, so it was done by Bert Lahr instead. But Becket always admired Keaton, and in 1965 offered him what was tantamount to a solo appearance(there are only three other actors in the film, very briefly). It is Buster's only philosophical movie.

Can we escape any form of examination of our activities? Keaton's character is shown for 95% of the film from the back or side (towards the end something of the "Great Stone Face" is shown but still from the nape of the neck). He is constantly running from view. He knocks down a clergyman and a woman, but both when watching him see something else that horrifies them. So does an elderly flower seller in Keaton's rooming house (who faints when she sees the unseen presence). Keaton enters his room and slowly does everything to remove any watchful eyes from staring at him. This includes pets he has, and even a picture of a sculpture head (interestingly of a Sumarian or Babylonian figure with wide eyes - these statues were usually meant to represent pious priests). When certain that he is unobserved Keaton looks at some photographs he got, and only then (for the first time) we see a picture of Keaton facing us - and with an eye patch). After getting rid of the photos Keaton apparently falls asleep, but then...he faces the ultimate intensive critic looking him over - and his final scene shows a tragic resignation that even death won't avoid.

It's philosophical beat makes it unique among Keaton's silent movies. It remains a nice final highpoint towards the end of his career - and one that fellow silent comics Chaplin and Lloyd did not quite match (although Chaplin's social comments, and Lloyd's spin on the success ethic are close to it in other areas of thought).

The only other time a similar arrangement appears to have been tried was when Salvador Dali offered a surrealistic comedy script to the Marx Brothers, and sent Harpo a specially designed harp. The script was never seriously considered by the Brothers (although Dali had been involved in surrealistic films in the 1920s and 1930s, and would work with Alfred Hitchcock on SPELLBOUND). Except for that one attempt no other major 20th Century artist appears to have approached any of the major film clowns to collaborate on any work.

Two Masters, simple majesty

[jnorvet · 10/10 · 28 February 2008]

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.

The key to Samuel Beckett's perverted universe

[Dr_Coulardeau · 10/10 · 30 December 2012]

This film was made in 1964 in black and white and silent. The artist's choices in the style of 1929. Obviously Beckett is not trying to make anything commercial or even popular but something artistic, avant-garde in a retrospective if not retrograde way: to go back to what it was in those distant days, even using Buster Keaton for the film, an actor who accepted to do it though he admitted he did not understand what it all was about.

The film has recently been restored and published on DVD by the French producer MK2. The introduction is from a university professor, François Noudelmann and has little interest. The documents which are testimonies from people who took part in the project insists on Beckett's active presence on the set and that's all. The cut scenes are in fact rushes that were not used because they were just bad, like the dog or the cat reappearing in the basket without having crossed the door back into the room.

So what about the film? Once again it is a fair representation of Beckett's mental and hence artistic universe. The back of an old urban industrial or residential building, the back alley cluttered with trash and rejects. One man we will never see from the front before the last scene comes up dressed in a long black coat, his face covered with some rag (so we think since we only see the back of the head) and a hat on top of it. He looks more like the Invisible Man the may H.G. wells describes him. That man walks right against the wall, pushes and frightens two people there, and finally comes around to the entrance of the building.

He hides on the down going stairs while an aging flower girl comes down from upstairs. She drops dead or something at the bottom of the stairs and the man goes around her and climbs to his room. He opens the door and enters a nearly empty room with one bed and one rocking chair. He will successively pull the blind down and draw the curtains, both on the only window, wrap up the mirror with the blanket from the bed, get the cat and the dog that were in a basket out into the corridor, one after another and since the ousted one comes back in each time the other is being ousted it does take some time. Finally with the fifth attempt, in that case the cat, he will manage to oust the cat and keep the dog out.

Then he covers the parrot in the cage with his coat and then he covers the fish in the fishbowl with the tail of the coat. Then, he pulls down a picture from the wall that had two big round black eyes and tears it up. Then he is obsessed with two holes at the top of the back of the rocking chair that look like eyes but he cannot do anything anyway and when he sits in the chair he does not see them, hence he may think they do not look at him any more, or they do not exist at all.

He then opens his satchel, gets a file out, obsessed by the string and the two buttons that look like eyes, but untie the string and get pictures out of the file. He is going to look at the pictures one after the other. They are his life in perspective and then he looks at them backward and tears them up one after the other. The pictures are typical: a mother and her new born baby, a mother and a young child, a teenager and a dog, a young man graduating from some school, a man and a woman probably on their wedding day, the man and a child and finally the man alone. That last picture reveals something happened that deprived him of his past, his wife and his child. Then he can go back and destroy all that past, picture after picture He remains alone and haunted by the past because you can destroy pictures but not memories.

That's when the film comes to a close and the man we have never seen from the front, whose face has always remained hidden is finally captured by the camera in a full front view. He is one-eyed and has a patch over his left eye and he sees himself in a nicer, cleaner and sterner attire, yet with the patch and that image of himself that cannot be in the mirror or any reflecting surface since there is none is the picture that haunts him in his own mind and he ends up his hands on his eye and patch blocking the view and maybe crying.

In his life there has been a crime, catastrophe, cataclysm that deprived him of his happy past and happy marriage and happy fatherhood and he feels guilty of it and he runs away and hides away from people and the world that he sees as interlopers and a ruin-looking universe, but he cannot run away from himself, from his mind, from his conscience and his conscience is like Cain's eye in the tomb: it is looking at him.

You can find that situation all over Beckett's works, plays, novels, whatever, and of course in this film. It is brutally visible. The only thing that the presentation of the film tells us is that in 1934 Beckett applied for a studying and working placement in Eisenstein's cinema school in Moscow. At the time there were many other possibilities for someone who wanted to learn about and work in the cinema industry. Choosing Eisenstein at the ripe time of 1934 in Stalin's USSR was more a political choice than anything else.

Dr Jacques COULARDEAU

Beckett and Keaton past their primes

[Horst_In_Translation · 4/10 · 10 September 2015]

Silent film legends Buster Keaton was already almost 70 and close to death when he appeared in this 17-minute Alen Schneider black-and-white short film from exactly 50 years ago. The script was by Samual Beckett, another pretty well-known name, but unfortunately the outcome was not as great as I had hoped. It's a silent film again and it's very experimental. Apart from the last 90 seconds or so, we basically see Keaton sitting in a rocking chair without seeing his face,, just his trademark hat tells everybody that it is probably him. I think without the inclusion of Keaton this would have been really boring and probably not a famous short film at all as the story is really forgettable and it's just the presence of Stoneface that really elevates the weak material here. Still, all in all, a mediocre work at best. Not recommended.

Weird!!

[Jon-163 · 14 August 1999]

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.

A Deeply Moving Celluloid Presentation of LIFE PHILOSOPHY, or a Amalgum of a lot of NONSENSICAL Schlock, Assembled & Designed by the Author to be One Huge PRACTICAL JOKE?

[redryan64 · 10/10 · 28 November 2008]

NOT being familiar with the literary work of Samuel Beckett, we confess to be at a great disadvantage at viewing this with the intent of writing down some half way intelligent and intelligible impressions of what transpired in the roughly 20 minutes of silent screen. Well, we gonna give it the old "College Try" anyway!

WE recently read that Mr. Beckett (1906-89) was a Poet and Author of Novels and Plays. He was a member of what is called the "Minimalist Movement" in his poetry; a term which certainly sounds to have a high degree of self explanatory meaning contained within its name. Ergo, to a half-educated slug like meself, minimal = less; sort of like "less is more!" Some of the Poetry of Samuel Beckett that we saw would certainly bear this out.

SO it is with this, his one and only film, we have a short which is devoid of all that it can be; while still allowing for some semblance of a "story" to follow. Characters have no labels, no names, virtually no interaction; save for some unintentional bumping into a lady and a Roman Collared Clergyman outside the building as well as a bouquet bearing elderly Lady inside the hallway of the multi apartment slum complex.

SO, do you really want to hear our got out of all this? Ready or not, here it goes…….

WE think that the film FILM is a metaphor for Life Itself. The main character (Played by Mr. Buster Keaton) begins the story in extreme close up shot, his one "good" eye blinking and seemingly welcoming the light of the new day. His journey seems desperate in getting to his run down, nearly vacant flat; where he seeks absolute privacy from any prying eyes. This includes any eyes of a wall illustration and those of a pup, a kitten, a parrot and a gold fish.

ON his way over his "lone journey" is interrupted briefly when he collides what looks an awful lot like a Funeral Rite, being performed by that previously mentioned Clergyman and the one Lady Mourner being set in a sort of field of garbage. The twosome at this garbage funeral service seems very annoyed, yet surprised at the sudden appearance and unconcerned attitude of Keaton.

AFTER some 2 reels of such non-sequitor happenings, we are led back to the same old close up shot of Buster's eye; not opening this time, but closing, shutting down-if you please. The Credits follow; indeed the very first credits of FILM; for there were no opening titles nor any credits offered, as is customary in most films.

AS for Our Theory about this film FILM; we offer the following, for what it's worth.

KEATON is everyman. His mission is to get through what is truly an all too short a Life on Planet Earth. Mr. Becket is trying to tell us that there isn't much which really means anything during our brief stay on good old Terra Firma. All that is man-made can only get in our way; including Organized Religion and well meaning neighbors. What life we truly lead is private and for ourselves only; with prying eyes and inquisitive minds of others being strictly alien to our own souls. Yes, it begins with the eye blinking and ends with the same eye blinking.

IT'S sort of like what has been said about people. "You come into this World with Nothing and Leave the Same Way!" (Or, "Remember Oh Man From Dust Thou Came And To Dust Thou Shall Return!")

THEN again, on the other hand, we may be all wet with this or any other attempt at explanation or theory.

WE were also put to mind of a story about 20th Century Master Artist Pablo Picasso. The story goes that Senor Picasso received a letter from a would be "Patron" and "Collector" of Fine Paintings. In it was enclosed a check for a tidy little sum, let's say for the sake of argument that it was $5,000.00. The letter bore instructions for Pablo to return a Picasso Original to the sender; a painting that would be worth the 5 Grand.

SO, Picasso proceeded to draw a stick-man figure on the back of the check, then to sign the "work", he endorsed the check and deposited it in his banking account. The man received his Picasso Original when his canceled check was returned to him.

WE can only wonder if this FILM business was some sort of practical joke played by the great, Irishman on a World which tends toward the bestowing near Deification on such Artistic and Literary Giants.

WHATTA you think, Schultz?

POODLE SCHNITZ!!

Absurdist Legacy

[dk-27479 · 9/10 · 24 January 2022]

Samuel Beckett is popularly known for his absurdity in theatres what we can see in the case of " Waiting for Godot" which is considered as the benchmark for absurdism in literature. Same kind of literary trends can be easily assessed in the case of 'Film' as well , there is not any dialogue between any character. Protagonist of the ' Film' is an oldman who seems in the last stage of his life , feels himself alienated or I can say that keeps himself alienated from external world, he seems very frustrated from Old aged life , and keeps himself checking that whether he is alive or not...

Actually titled, The Goad?

[dvdrach · 21 April 2000]

I was under the impression this film is titled, The Goad, as a theatre prof. in college (who did her dissertation on Beckett) told my class. At the time I saw this film I thought it was weird, but I still remember it and it is an inspiration to my own short-film writing even now.