The only other full-length biography I'd read of Buster Keaton prior to this one (by Marion Meade) made mention of the fact that people were often surprised at how well Buster Keaton's teeth looked (I'm guessing because he never smiled on camera, at least not in his classic films), and mentioned this fact multiple times. So I will say right off the bat that Buster Keaton's amazing teeth are never really mentioned once. Because this book has a lot more to say about Keaton's life and work, thankfully.
"Camera Man: Buster Keaton, the Dawn of Cinema, and the Invention of the Twentieth Century," by Dana Stevens, is a bold and innovative look at the life and career of one of the most important figures in early American and international cinema, a stone-faced comedian whose technical achievements and athletic prowess continue to inspire generations of film-makers today. Stevens makes a point early on of contextualizing Keaton's life with the span of time that it encompassed and all the changes that ensued. Born in 1895, he died in early 1966. That's seventy years on this earth, with a whole host of important events that went on while Keaton was first serving in his family's vaudeville show and then finding success on his own as a filmmaker in the 1910's and 1920's, the film industry's great silent-movie period. Never as mawkish or sentimental as Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton made films where his put-upon protagonist was often at the mercy of nature or cruel plots hatched by others, and he had to risk life and limb (often performing his own stunts) in order to survive. When talkies came, Keaton wasn't necessarily left bereft by the invention of speaking roles in film, but the conditions under which he worked for MGM (zero creative input on his part, relegated to movies that often aren't nearly as good as his silent, independent work) derailed his career at an important time. Personally, he was trapped in two marriages, one loveless and the other reckless, before finally finding his life partner in third wife Eleanor and some measure of sobriety after succumbing to alcoholism in the early years of the Great Depression. He managed to have a late-career renaissance of appreciation for his films, and a continuing career in front of the camera in commercials and admittedly not-great-but-hey-it's-a-living movies in the early Sixties.
Dana Stevens, a longtime Keaton fan and film critic, does amazing work in putting Keaton's life and work in the context of his times and how, even without necessarily connecting, the movements in art, society, and world events influenced Keaton's life and work. Chapters deal with the unfortunate racism and sexism that often crops up in Keaton's films, as well as the sense of alienation that he may have borrowed subconsciously from Kafka and F. Scott Fitzgerald (while admittedly never actually reading either author, Keaton could still have felt some of the sense of dread and unease with which each author infused their work). And Stevens does an important service to Keaton's early years as the focus of his family's vaudeville act, often tumbling or being thrown by his father Joe as a form of entertainment that we would likely find appalling today. Keaton's demons and passive responses to certain life-changing events could likely be tied back to his service as a prop to his father's often violent stage gestures, in ways that scarred the adult Buster and left him unable to deal with the world around him.
This is such a necessary book because it places Buster Keaton in context as perhaps one of the most innovative and important figures in cinematic history. It's no hyperbole to state that Keaton, perhaps out of all the silent-screen comedians, has aged the best in terms of relating to modern audiences especially through the prism of what the twentieth century became and how it has continued to shape our modern world and entertainment options. In "Camera Man," Dana Stevens helps make clear why it is that Buster Keaton matters, and why his work continues to resonate.