Know that phrase “the numbers don’t lie”? It’s a lie. The numbers lie constantly. With the movies, as with every creative medium in which visionaries must cross the six-way intersection of greed, exploitation, risk, reward, art and commerce, it’s a mug’s game to lie about numbers not telling the whole story about anything.
This spring, a century ago, Buster Keaton’s “Sherlock, Jr.” opened in theaters. Keaton, a huge success in vaudeville and one of a handful of silent film pioneers touched by the gods of inspiration, already had built an eager audience for his fearless, outlandish stunt work, bone-dry wit, pinpoint comic timing and peculiarly American melancholy. He directed “Sherlock, Jr.” as well as starred in it, as well as breaking his neck, literally, for it.
Keaton took his time filming — four months on this project — and was injured filming a scene with a railway water spout. Some chilly preview screenings garnered few laughs, so Keaton cut his comedy down to 45 minutes, ruthlessly. Still, business was mild; 1924 audiences preferred Harold Lloyd’s comedies “Girl Shy” and “Hot Water.” While “Sherlock, Jr.” didn’t cost enough to be an omen of creative independence doom, the way Keaton’s “The General” was two years later, Keaton biographer Marion Meade called it the star’s first conspicuous disappointment in 25 years of show business. He was 28.
This is the thing about money: Enough time goes by, and very few money matters matter anymore. A century later “Sherlock Jr.” has ascended to the pantheon. It’s a dreamy masterpiece, connecting the world of dreams to the expressive realms of cinema. There are moments in it that defy gravity, bamboozle the eye, invent and perfect new ways of seeing and getting a laugh, all in the same second. The trade publication Variety called it “as funny as a hospital operating room.” More recently, two different children in my life attended Facets summer camp, and watching “Sherlock, Jr.” for the first time, they came to the same conclusion on different days in different summers: It’s great. Magic.