Buster Keaton, for instance, protested to the end of his days that he had no notion of what his admirers were talking about when they spoke, as Andrew Sarris did, of his “cerebral” qualities, or when they detected a pervasive surrealism in his films that - considering the period in which the films were made - virtually placed him in the avant-garde. "I was just trying to get laughs" was his constant and stubborn answer to questions. Keaton was, in fact, a brilliant analyst of film, as his dazzling film-within-a-film in Sherlock Jr. indicates: the sequence illustrates basic theories of continuity and cutting more vividly and with greater precision than theorists themselves have ever been able to do. But the analysis is not in Keaton’s head. It is in the film. He went past cerebration and worked only with the thing itself, creating what amounts to theory out of his body, his camera, his fingers, a pair of scissors. Art is often something done before it is something thought: Keaton’s impulses were not only stronger but more accurate than any verbal formulation he might have chosen to offer for them.
- Walter Kerr on film artist Buster Keaton, The Silent Clowns, Alfred A. Knopf: New York, 1975, p. 98
For @johnwatso, may these snuggles and love make you feel better soon ❤❤
John pushes the door of the flat open, letting out a deep sigh and dropping his bag in the floor. Had he known today was going to be so busy, he would have gone to bed much earlier yesterday. Not sure Sherlock would have let him, but still, they could have snuggled together in bed and let sleep take over them slowly.
“Sherlock?” He calls, already craving the touch of his husband. “I’m home!”
He only has to wait a second before Sherlock appears from the kitchen, a concerned look on his face and something close to worry dancing in his eyes. John smiles, walking toward him and sliding both arm around his waist, “Sorry it’s late, we had several emergencies today and I couldn’t even find the time to send a single text.”
Sherlock’s eyes roam all over his face, one hand coming up to stroke his cheek slowly, “We could watch a movie,” he says, not at all what John had expected.
“It actually sounds like a good idea, yes,“ he smiles, leaning up to brush their lips together. “I’m exhausted.”
Sherlock kisses him some more, his hand now around John’s nape, “I can order some take away.”
John nods, “Even better. I let you chose the movie while I go shower quickly?”
Sherlock remains silent, not letting go of him just yet, and John seals back their lips together for another kiss. God, he has missed this. An entire day without Sherlock’s mouth against his own and he’s already craving for more.
“I’ll get everything ready,” Sherlock breathes against his lips, and John holds him tighter.
“Thank you, love,” he whispers and with one last kiss, Sherlock lets him go.
John doesn’t linger in the shower, already looking forward to some snuggling on the sofa all evening, and by the time he’s changed into his pajamas pants and a t-shirt, Sherlock has already place their takeaway on the table.
“That was fast,” John comments, sitting down next to him.
“You should know by now,” Sherlock replies. “Angelo always makes special deliveries for us.”
John laughs, pressing his side against Sherlock’s before reaching for his box of food, “God, I’m hungry!”
Sherlock’s lips curl into a smile, watching him as John takes the first bite of his pasta, “Good?”
John looks up at him, “Perfect.” He settles against the sofa as Sherlock starts the movie. “Oh, I love this one.”
Sherlock kisses his temple softly, “I know.”
John takes his hand, squeezing softly, “I love you, you know that?”
Sherlock rolls his eyes, “You did told me this morning.”
John represses another laugh, “I can stop if you want.”
Sherlock looks at him, as if to challenge him to do so before saying, “Don’t you dare.”
John laughs this time, pulling Sherlock’s face down to kiss him, “Not sure I could even if I tried,” he says.
Sherlock brushes their lips together, “Good.”
They settle back to watch the movie, John finishing his meal quickly and Sherlock barely touching his. He puts back his box on the table and opens both arms as soon as he sits back, welcoming Sherlock against him. They usually end up in the same position every time they watch telly. Sherlock’s head finds its place against his neck, both arms snuggled around John’s body and his lips leaving small kisses against his skin now and then.
John lets the exhaustion of the day fade away with each minute that ticks by. He can’t remember the first time he had dreamed about sharing a moment like this one with Sherlock, but it feels like a lifetime ago now. Back when he had been too afraid, too much of a coward to at least try to tell this brilliant man just how in love with him he was. Back when he had let the world bring them apart so very slowly.
“John,” Sherlock whispers, silent questions in his eyes.
“I’m alright,” John hurried to reply. “It’s just… I should have chosen you, all these years ago.”
Sherlock shakes his head, “We agreed, that was then. We need to focus on now.”
“Yes,” John smiles. “But you have to know, I did, chose you, in my heart.”
Sherlock stares at him for long seconds, something so very soft in his eyes and John leans for another kiss.
The world lost the Great Stone Face on February 1, 1966. But I am happy to say that Buster Keaton left behind a legacy fit for a King. Within his 70 years on earth, Buster managed to give to us some of the greatest masterpieces in cinematic history to remember him by. I have a tremendous amount of respect for this man who risked his life to do all of his own stunts in his films and spent endless hours thinking up ways to make his audience laugh. Buster’s dedication to his craft shines through each time you see one of his films. For it seems that as much as Buster Keaton is still loved today, there is no sign of his legacy ever fading away.
Buster Keaton (October 4, 1895 - February 1, 1966)
Requested by Anon: Hello,
I kinda wanted to make a request if you are already busy ignore this but well
if you could do one where the reader explains love to Sherlock and she
accidentally tells him she loves him. Just really fluffy. Thank you 😊
You and Sherlock sat in your separate chairs inside of Baker
Street, warm and content watching Pride and Prejudice. Somehow you had coerced
Sherlock into watching a move with you so obviously it had to be this one.
“I don’t understand this,” Sherlock finally admitted.
“What don’t you understand?”
He sat up, looking ready to give you a whole list of reasons.
“First off, why does Lizzie even care about him so much he’s an asshole and
historically he would clearly have other women in town? And second, Lizzie’s
family is not doing too well financially it doesn’t make any sense for a man of
Darcy’s stature to be marrying here.”
“Love, Sherlock. Just
chalk it up to love. Love crosses social boundaries and it also requires quite
a lot of trust that Lizzie has clearly earned from Darcy.”
“Love is your solution?”
“Love is always the solution.”
Sherlock rolled his eyes before pausing the TV, preparing to
enter a heated debate. “I want one real life situation,” Sherlock demanded.
“Easily. Your parents, John and Mary, Molly and… Tom?… you
and me- Obvis-“ you began before realizing what you had just let slip. You
looked to Sherlock to see if he had caught your mistake and the look on his
face showed he had.
“You and me?”
You looked away from him in shame, not in the mood to discuss
your feelings, or rather get rejected. “I don’t really want to talk about it
Sherlock,” you told him, unpausing the movie. Sherlock remained silent as the
movie kept playing and he remained quiet until the credits began to roll. In
fact he had been so quiet it scared you. “I think I’m going to bed,” you said,
standing up before you felt Sherlock grab your hand.
He stood up and looked you directly in your eyes. “Love is
for fools and… I think I’ve became a fool,” Sherlock whispered before he swept
you up in a long awaited kiss. Your lips moved in time as you revealed in the
long-awaited touch of his lips and Sherlock seemed just as eager as you were.
Finally Sherlock pulled away and stared deep in your eyes as you saw the look of desperation in him.
“If love is for fools, than love is for fools like us,” you whispered.
A 1916 silent movie featuring Sherlock Holmes - long presumed lost - is due to have its premiere in Paris. It stars a man who changed the way we see Conan Doyle’s famous sleuth forever.
He was the first great Sherlock Holmes. But few will have heard of US actor William Gillette.
He is thought to be a distant relation of the family behind Gillette razors, wrote plays about the American civil war, patented a noise to imitate the sound of a galloping horse and built an enormous castle in North Carolina. But it is his Holmes that fascinates people today.
And until three months ago, it seemed that no-one would ever see it.
Gillette adapted Sherlock Holmes for the stage in 1899 and played Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s detective more than 1,000 times.
He made only one film, the 1916 silent movie version of Sherlock Holmes. For decades the movie was presumed lost, one of the great missing links of Sherlockiana. Then in October 2014 it was discovered at the Cinematheque Francaise, a film archive in Paris.
“At last we get to see for ourselves the actor who kept the first generation of Sherlockians spellbound,” says the man supervising the film’s restoration, Professor Russell Merritt. “As far as Holmes is concerned, there’s not an actor dead or alive who hasn’t consciously or intuitively played off Gillette.”
Not only was Gillette the Benedict Cumberbatch of his day. He was the actor who decided - perhaps more than any other - how Holmes looks and talks, and whose relationship with Conan Doyle may have breathed new life into the Sherlock Holmes franchise.