The Navigator (1924)
Sure, it was a colossal hit in 1924, but today The Navigator is often treated as a second-tier masterpiece, unfairly overshadowed by Sherlock Jr. and The General. That’s a mistake. The film strands two pampered, helpless elites—Keaton and his love interest—on
a massive, deserted ocean liner. What follows is a masterclass in environmental comedy. Keaton doesn’t just do gags; he turns the entire ship into a vast, uncooperative machine. From trying to boil an egg in a cauldron-sized pot to navigating the deck in deep-sea diving suits, the film showcases his unparalleled ability to create intricate, logical, and hilarious sequences out of his surroundings. It’s less about a single stunt and more about sustained, inventive genius.
Go West (1925)
Dismissed by some critics at the time and still living in the shadow of its more epic contemporaries, Go West is one of Keaton’s most soulful and strange comedies. He plays a down-and-out character named “Friendless” who finds his only companion in a dairy cow named Brown Eyes. The emotional core of the film is this bizarre, yet genuinely touching, friendship. While it contains classic Keaton set pieces—including a disastrous attempt at milking and an absurd cattle stampede through the streets of Los Angeles—the film’s more melancholic and character-driven tone sets it apart. It’s Keaton proving he could deliver heartfelt absurdity as effectively as he delivered jaw-dropping spectacle.
The Twilight Zone, "Once Upon a Time" (1961)
Decades after his silent-era peak, Keaton gave a poignant and largely wordless performance in this standout episode of The Twilight Zone. He plays a grumpy janitor in 1890 who is fed up with the noise and expense of his era and uses a time helmet to travel to 1962, hoping for a quieter life. The first act is a beautiful homage to his roots, filmed as a silent movie complete with intertitles and piano music. When he arrives in the chaotic, loud 1960s, the sound kicks in, and his trademark deadpan expression perfectly captures the horror of a future that’s even worse. It’s a brilliant, meta-commentary on the passage of time, both for society and for the iconic performer himself.
Film (1965)
This is by far the most obscure entry on the list, a collaboration that seems almost impossible on paper: Buster Keaton starring in the only screenplay ever written by existentialist playwright Samuel Beckett. Film is a 20-minute, nearly silent experimental short that follows a man (Keaton) who is fleeing from perception itself, desperate not to be seen. There are no pratfalls or intricate gags here. Instead, Keaton uses his lifetime of experience in physical expression to convey a deep sense of paranoia and despair. Though Keaton himself admitted he was confused by the project, his weathered face and weary movements create a haunting and unforgettable performance. It's a challenging watch but a fascinating convergence of two 20th-century titans.
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum (1966)
In his final film appearance, Keaton joined a who's-who of comedians in this zany musical farce. Playing the perpetually bewildered Erronius, a Roman citizen searching for his long-lost children, Keaton doesn’t have a massive role, but his presence is a joy. He mostly runs. And runs. And runs. In what feels like a loving tribute to his entire career, his character is sent on a loop, instructed to circle the seven hills of Rome multiple times. We just see him pop up in the background, frantically jogging through scenes. Even in his 70s and in declining health, he proved he was still a master of physical comedy, even performing one last classic pratfall himself. It was a fitting, funny, and final bow.
