This week I want to take a cue from Lauren’s piece “Becoming a Cinephile,” and wax rhapsodic about the films that led me to the scholastic study of those glorious things we call moving images. I saw these films in my first film class, as an undergraduate at a 
liberal arts college in rural Massachusetts. I enrolled for the fun of it, but ended up discovering a personal passion. In our first few weeks of classes we delved into the early days of cinema, from the photographic studies of Eadweard Muybridge and magic lantern shows, to the first cinematic shorts. It was a few class periods into the semester when we watched Georges Méliès’ A Trip to the Moon (1902) and Buster Keaton’s Sherlock, Jr. (1924).
Though these films are separated by 22 years of film history, they remain the two works that made me fall in love with the moving image. I have seen these films countless times, but my joy for them never wanes. Though they were created in the adolescence and awkward teen years of the film image, these works are beautifully executed, and illustrate the incredible potential of film, both as a mechanical apparatus and as an art form. They represent what I love most about the moving image.
As we all know, the Martin Scorcese film Hugo (and the Brian Selznick book upon which it is based, The Invention of Hugo Cabret) is a love letter to the early works of cinema, and particularly to Méliès himself. While both the original novel and Scorcese’s masterful adaptation discuss Méliès’ full body of work, A Trip to the Moon is posited (rightly) as his opus. As Hugo suggests, Méliès used the film camera as a means of creating new and exciting magic tricks–illusions only capable through the manipulation of the cinematic apparatus. In A Trip to the Moon we see everything from aliens and space shuttles, to giant mushrooms and grand explosions. We see the now iconic image of a space shuttle lodging itself in the gooey, cheesy eye of the Man in the Moon. We are in a land of make-believe and the unknown, where the impossible happens.
Though the plot of Buster Keaton’s Sherlock, Jr. takes place solidly on human soil, rather than on the terrestrial planes of our solar system, it has a lot in common with A Trip to the Moon. Both feature a narrative structured by the occurrence of the impossible, using the cinematic appartaus to make a man go where he cannot–to the moon (an implausibility, certainly, back in 1902), and into 
the moving picture itself. A Trip to the Moon takes us not to the moon of Buzz Aldrin and Neil Armstrong, but to the moon we imagined as children, full of fantastic creatures and unknown landscapes; meanwhile Sherlock, Jr., takes us (and its hapless hero) into a movie within another movie. We follow as the main character–a film projectionist himself–falls asleep at his post, and dreams he can walk into the very film he is projecting. In this film, “Hearts and Pearls,” our Projectionist becomes what he is not–a suave, skillful detective.
Our projectionist is, in fact, presenting us with a literal interpretation of what we as spectators do metaphorically when watching a movie: he interacts with it, and vice versa. He moves through an impossible series of locations–from arctic tundra, to desert, to an oceanic rock face–in less than five minutes. At the end of Sherlock, Jr. our hero, returning from his dream wanderings, is left back in his real body (as are we spectators, when the credits begin to roll). Through his interaction with the cinematic image, he finds the courage to woo his lady love. Like us, he learns from the movies, and revels in their ability to do the impossible; he dreams of doing the impossible himself.
When I watch these movies, I feel like a child. They fill me with a sense of wonderment and pure, unadulterated joy. Keaton was not a magician on the stage, but both he and Méliès created magic with the cinematic apparatus. These filmmakers tested the limits of the film camera, and rewarded us with extraordinary trips to impossible worlds. There is enthusiasm, wonderment, and magic in every second of A Trip to the Moon and Sherlock, Jr. These films are a joy to watch because they couple technical complexity with a sense of humor and fantasy. They represent all the literal and figurative magic of the movies; their plots are fantastic, the movement of the image is itself a trick, but my love for these movies is no illusion.
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Twitter: MarkusWelby1
April 17, 2012 7:58 am
I wish I could say my pics were as intelligent as yours, but the films that captured that “magic” for me were “Star Wars” and especially “E.T.”
What’s not “as intelligent” as two movies that, like the ones I mention, completely change the game? Star Wars and E.T. made indelible marks on cinematic history!
Twitter: ptsnob
April 17, 2012 8:44 am
Sherlock, Jr. is so awesome. I like The General a lot, but when I think of Buster Keaton, this is the first movie that comes to mind. A Trip to the Moon is also a lot of fun, especially when you consider the time it was made.
I myself have never been a fan of “The General,” despite by love for Keaton. I find it overlong. Still some great gags in it, though!
I love Sherlock Jr., particularly the end and the sly wink as Keaton scratches his head when the film jumps from a kiss to babies. A real testament to his genius. Fab article. (And thanks for the shout-out!)
I love that part too. I’m partial to the moments when Keaton looks at the camera/audience. They always crack me up!
Lovely….
I agree with your feelings wholeheartedly. I had a similar experience in my freshman year at Lawrence University when I took a course in German Film.
I audited the class in its first week and with it’s first class we sat down to see THE CABINET OF DR. CALIGARI, which became my very first silent film ever seen and I couldn’t imagine a film doing that much to me without even sound. Well I talked to the professor and signed up for the course immediately….
Sadly I remained on my path of gaining a science degree as opposed to switching to art immediately. So I sit here continually scheming how to gain some technical education in filmmaking and not growing the balls to just do it….
Andrew, CALIGARI is fantastic, too. I took a class in German Expressionist film, and it was definitely one of my favorite films in the coursework. Have you seen Murnau’s “Sunrise”? It’s not as abstract, but it’s gorgeous.
And don’t feel bad about your useful degree! You’re every parents dream, and you’re probably better off in this economy! I think everybody right now is keeping their passions alive any way they can, while they work in other fields to pay the bills. Ain’t no shame in hustling!
No I haven’t seen that one. I remember also seeing the original Nosferatu.
I don’t remember the titles of the other films we watched for the course, but I do remember one about a doorman who loses his job and ends up stealing his uniform so his family doesn’t know and stuff… can’t remember the name.
But CALIGARI has been the one that’s stayed with me over the years, and I know for a fact that I’ve never revisited it… I wonder if that’s in the Criterion Collection and if they plan a Blu upgrade.
There’s not much that Keaton does on screen that doesn’t crack me up. It makes me happy to see someone tip their cap not just to his humor, but also to his technical prowess.
I tend to agree with your assessment of The General in the sense that there are many Keaton films that I enjoy more, but it’ll always have a soft spot for me because it was the first Keaton film I ever watched. And it inspired me to watch all of the rest, from the amazing full length features of the 20s to the 20s shorts to the painful MGM years and even beyond, when he was basically making one-man Three Stooges movies in the late 30s and early 40s.
John, thanks for reading! I just participated in a podcast about Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd, so when that goes out I’ll link to it here!
BTW, despite my love for Keaton I haven’t seen as much of his filmography as I’d like. Any more obscure recommendations you could make?
Can’t wait for that podcast. Thanks for the heads up.
For Keaton recommendations… let’s see… His best MGM feature is The Cameraman. His best post-MGM short is probably Pest From the West. My favorite golden era shorts would be The High Sign, One Week, The Boat, and The Playhouse. Seven Chances is my favorite golden era full length feature. Steamboat Bill, Jr. is well known and features some of the most amazing stunts I’ve ever seen.
I’m a bad person to ask for this because my first inclination is to say “Watch everything he made from 1919-1928″.
I really do need to just up and buy the compilation, but until I can afford it this is a very helpful list! Thanks!
The podcast is finally uphttp://lesleycoffin.com/podcast.html!
Twitter: pturner1010
April 18, 2012 1:50 am
Absolutely loved those scenes in Hugo where we got to see what it was like for Melies at work. I wish the rest of the film had live up to those magical moments. Also great to see Scorcese’s recreation of the Lumiere/Cinematographe/Train Arriving at a Station moment. Will have to check out Sherlock Jr
Those are my favorite scenes, too. I started crying during the “Melies’ studio” scene, b/c it felt like I was a part of his world. I completely lost it.