The first time I saw Buster Keaton was as a child watching Saturday-morning television. The show was called Life with Buster Keaton, and it was a strangely unfunny affair, an episode of a thirteen-week series originally filmed in 1951. Keaton was a private eye grimly roaming the waterfront, encountering an odd array of suspicious characters, including a bartender whose head wound up on a serving platter and a bizarre trio of puppets. Over a period of a few months, I’m sure I saw them all, which made me think I knew who Keaton was when he popped up briefly in It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. Then came the Beach Party pictures, where he was more a presence than an active participant, and finally a documentary, Buster Keaton Rides Again, which opened my eyes to Keaton’s rich history as a moviemaker. By then he was dead, but over the ensuing decades I was able to see a good sampling of his silent shorts and features.
There were also books, principally a biography by Rudi Blesh titled Keaton, published soon after his death, as well as a heavily ghosted autobiography called My Wonderful World of Slapstick. Others followed, so many, in fact, that I wondered if there was room for yet another when my editor suggested Keaton as a subject. I made inquiries, spoke with his family, and was universally encouraged to proceed. The result, after nine years, was accomplished only with the generous help of a number of individuals.
Chief among these was Patricia Eliot Tobias, one of the founders of the International Buster Keaton Society, more commonly known as the Damfinos, who urged me to write this book, and who pointed the way to a number of invaluable documents and primary source materials. Since Patty has consumed practically everything ever published about Keaton, I asked her to read the draft manuscript with the goal of poking as many holes in it as possible. This she did with exquisite attention to detail, and all of her comments and questions, including notes informed by her years as a New York–based copy editor, were wonderfully on point and gratefully received.
Melissa Talmadge Cox, Buster Keaton’s granddaughter, has been of immense help as well, providing personal memories as well as photos and artifacts. Melissa fielded countless questions, always with grace and good humor, and arranged for multiple visits with her delightful mother, Barbara Talmadge, who married into the Keaton family in 1943 and whose memory is as razor sharp as her opinions. Getting to meet and spend time with them was one of the great pleasures of researching this book.
Kevin Brownlow has been a source of inspiration and encouragement for several generations of those who aspire to write about cinema. He generously allowed me access to his personal files on Keaton and, with the intrepid help of his wife, Caroline, made unedited transcripts of his interviews for his three-part documentary Buster Keaton: A Hard Act to Follow available for my use. Kevin also read this book in manuscript form and provided pages of helpful notes.
Bob Borgen, erstwhile president of the International Buster Keaton Society, kindly arranged for me to meet and interview Buster Keaton’s brother-in-law, Walt Kelly, and Walt’s son (and Eleanor Keaton’s nephew) Rick Kelly. Bob also made me aware of Alan Hoffman, who once contemplated writing a book on Keaton himself and recorded a series of interviews in the mid-seventies. Alan not only gave permission for me to reference and quote from partial audio recordings in Bob’s possession, but sent me the complete original tapes as well.
In tackling this project, I was fortunate that Buster Keaton had been readily accessible to interviewers throughout his life (as was his widow, Eleanor, who survived him by thirty-three years). Many of these encounters have been collected into the essential book Buster Keaton: Interviews, edited by Kevin W. Sweeney (Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 2007), although I have gone back to the original sources wherever possible. In addition, I’d like to thank Bob Borgen for Irwin Allen’s 1945 radio interview with Keaton; Ned Comstock for Keaton’s 1962 summary of his career for the Hollywood Museum; John Slotkin for the 1961 radio interview recorded by his mother, Shirley Eder; the late Robert S. Birchard for his interview with actor Harold Goodwin; and Alan Hoffman for the interviews he recorded with Harold Goodwin, director Charles Lamont, and Eleanor Keaton. I’d also like to thank Lindsay Moen, Public Services Librarian, Special Collections and University Archives, University of Iowa, for having dozens of interviews recorded in the 1990s by Keaton biographer Marion Meade digitized for my use.
Randy Haberkamp, the senior vice president of preservation and foundation programs at the Pickford Center for Motion Picture Study, arranged for me to examine the Academy Film Archive’s file on James Mason and his 1956 transfer of the contents of Buster Keaton’s personal vault to the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. This file was especially illuminating in documenting Raymond Rohauer’s early efforts to copy and exploit the films, and I’m grateful to Randy for helping shed light on a famous but somewhat mysterious chapter in silent film preservation.
Karl Thiede, proprietor of the most impressive private library I’ve ever seen, has studied the financial aspects of the film industry for much of his life. His figures are not only authoritative but also revealing, and I’m always fortunate to have his insights in understanding the business side of a subject’s story.
Ned Comstock, who retired from USC’s Cinematic Arts Library about the same time I finished this book, has always been a great librarian as well as a great advocate for work of this nature. He was his usual essential self, and I am far from the only author who will miss him in the future.
The brilliant location detective John Bengtson has been a terrific help in identifying the locations used in the making of Keaton’s silent shorts and features, many of which are explained and illustrated in his astonishing book Silent Echoes (Santa Monica, CA: Santa Monica Press, 2000). If a street or a landmark or a studio lot is mentioned in this book, chances are the information originated with John.
I especially want to thank historian and restoration archivist Paul Gierucki for the many courtesies and favors he did for me over the course of this book. Paul was always ready with an answer when I had a question concerning Roscoe Arbuckle, but he was also unfailingly helpful when I needed to see some Keaton rarity for which he was the only known source. He also gave priority to the scanning and preservation of the Damfinos’ Rudi Blesh collection of manuscript materials and photographs for my benefit. I hope he’ll consider this book adequate compensation for all the trouble I caused him.
David Weddle alerted me to his fascinating 2002 interview with Geraldine Chaplin, which originally appeared in Variety. He also referred me to the late Sam Dodge, whose collection and knowledge of silent film cameras helped me understand how Keaton obtained some of his amazing on-screen effects. And Sam’s great friend and fellow collector Carroll Gray continued to answer questions after Sam’s passing.
As she had for my previous biography of Mort Sahl, Leslie Lowe created expert transcriptions of the interviews I conducted for this book, as well as interviews done by others that came my way. Marc Wanamaker shared his memories (and some snapshots) of the original 1988 marker ceremony at the site of the Buster Keaton Studio on Lillian Way in Hollywood, Dr. Tracey Goessel contributed her analysis of the events leading to the 1921 death of Virginia Rappe, and author and historian Joe Adamson offered helpful comments and suggestions based on his own encyclopedic knowledge of film comedy.
From Europe, Edward Watz was gracious and forthcoming in his memories of Raymond Rohauer, for whom he worked for four years. Ed was also in possession of notes and photocopies made by the late Keaton biographer Tom Dardis, who was permitted access to the Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer studio archive in the 1970s. Ed’s help enabled me to check and, in some cases, correct the error-prone Dardis’ assertions in his 1979 book, Keaton: The Man Who Wouldn’t Lie Down. Ed’s a class act and a valued colleague.
In Muskegon, local historian Ron Pesch gave me a personal tour of the fabled Actors’ Colony, where the Keatons had a home between the years 1909 and 1923. Ron patiently answered my many questions and permitted me access to his considerable collection of news clippings that covered not only the Keatons’ time at Bluffton but virtually all the notable residents of the period. In Oregon, Lloyd Williams of the Cottage Grove Historical Society similarly provided a fascinating trip around the various sites associated with the filming of Keaton’s 1926 masterwork The General that included a timely screening of the film itself.
I am particularly indebted to André D’Ulisse, archivist at the National Film Board of Canada, who researched and retrieved all existing paperwork relating to the production of The Railrodder and its companion documentary, Buster Keaton Rides Again, and provided me with scans. Bruce Goldstein read this book in manuscript form and contributed valuable notes. Cutler family genealogist Linda Neal was generous in sharing her remarkable research into the early years of Myra Cutler; her father, Frank Cutler; and her husband, Joe Keaton. Jack Dragga shared his extraordinary knowledge of Ten Girls Ago as well as his memories of Raymond Rohauer. And, from Ontario, Eryn Merwart, the current president of the Damfinos, shared her own research on The Railrodder, kindly delivered to me at the 2015 Buster Keaton convention in Muskegon by Binnie Brennan.
I’d also like to thank Michael Blake, John Cannon, Melissa Talmadge Cox, John McElwee, Karl Thiede, Patricia Eliot Tobias, Mark Vieira, and Jordan Young for dipping into their private collections to offer images for inclusion in this book. Melanie and Andrew Kelly were, as always, gracious and knowledgeable hosts during my visits to England. And for various assists, comments, and courtesies, I am also indebted to Melody Bunting, Tap Duncan’s great-granddaughter Michelle Drumheller, Rob Farr, Larry Harnisch, Leonard Maltin, Robert Moulton, Vergil Noble, Victoria Sainte-Claire, and Eileen Whitfield.
The Damfinos kindly granted me full access to photos, notebooks, and manuscript materials acquired from the estate of Rudi Blesh, Keaton’s original biographer. Other primary sources essential to understanding Buster Keaton’s life and work are held in a number of libraries and institutions, and I am grateful to the librarians and administrators who made this aspect of my work so rewarding.
Margaret Herrick Library, Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, Beverly Hills: Louise Hilton, Faye Thompson, and the outstanding staff of the Katharine Hepburn Reading Room. Louis B. Mayer Library, American Film Institute, Los Angeles: Mike Pepin. British Film Institute: Jonny Davies.
Cinematic Arts Library, University of Southern California, Los Angeles: Steve Hanson. Archives and Special Collections, Emerson College, Boston: Rosalie Gartner. Mohave Museum of History and Arts, Kingman, Arizona: Cathy Kreis. New York Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children: Joseph Gleason.
Paley Center for Media: Martin Gostanian (Beverly Hills) and Mark Ekman (New York).
San Francisco History Center, San Francisco Public Library. Regional History Collection, University of Southern California: Dace Taube. UCLA Film and Television Archive: Mark Quigley. Warner Bros. Archives, University of Southern California: Brett Service. Will Rogers Memorial Museums: Jennifer Holt.
A special note of thanks goes to the team responsible for the Media History Digital Library (mediahistoryproject.org) and that singular search and visualization platform known as Lantern.
There weren’t many individuals left who could talk firsthand about Buster Keaton when I began work on this book. Fortunately, there were a few with whom I had talked for previous books who had valuable things to say about Keaton. These were Michael Anderson, who directed him in Around the World in 80 Days; Gene Fowler, Jr., who worked with him on Tales of Manhattan; Marshall Schlom, script supervisor on It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World; and Jules White, who directed Keaton in Sidewalks of New York and eight of the ten two-reelers he made for Columbia.
Those who met and in many cases worked with Keaton and were able to speak with me for this specific project include the late Frank Buxton, Dick Cavett, Bobbie Shaw Chance, David de Volpi, Dale Duffy, Jane Earl, Ruth Earl, Marsha Hunt, James Karen, Rick Kelly, Walt Kelly, John Lahr, Norman Lloyd, Harry (Keaton) Moore, Gerald Potterton, Elliott Reid, and John Sebert. Nicola Dantine shared memories of her uncle Joseph M. Schenck, and Bob and Minako Borgen recalled the Eleanor Keaton they knew.
I want to express my deep appreciation to Dr. Timothy Wilson and his colleagues at the St. John’s Cancer Institute in Santa Monica for enabling me to finish this book when, at times, it seemed as if I might not. My editor, Victoria Wilson, proposed Keaton as a subject at a time when I had nothing else in mind, and it proved an inspired choice for me. This is the fourth book we have done together over a span of twenty-five years, and we’ve always seen eye to eye on everything from the first page to the last. I am grateful for her dedication, her support, and her extraordinary taste, and look forward to our collaboration continuing well into the future.
My wife, Kim Geary, has been a full partner in these books, and never more so than with this current one. Fortunately, she never issued one of those Keatonesque ultimatums (“Until you go out and get a real job…”), possibly to her own regret but never to mine.
James Curtis
Brea
June 2021