Buster Keaton plays a mid-19th century train conductor who desperately wants to join the Confederate army to impress a girl. That determined drive, plus a set of unusual circumstances, sends him deep behind enemy lines amidst of a pair of wild railway chases, said girl on his arm, on an indirect route to finally earning that gray uniform.

Keaton's strength here is in both the delightful quandaries he digs for himself and the vivid reality of his work, often throwing caution to the wind and putting his body in the path of legitimate danger. His style is more grounded than Charlie Chaplin, a contemporary and rival, less flowery and expressive but equally inventive and influential. Where one can see the matte painting at the edge of Chaplin's roller skates in Modern Times, Keaton casually showboats mere inches from the wheels of a three-hundred ton steam engine in motion. He hurls a speeding train off a rickety wooden bridge, leaving much of the cast unaware to capture a more honest reaction. His stunts are more practical, if perhaps less showy.

The plot is sufficiently interesting, but uneven at points. Curious to see a film shot entirely from the southern perspective in this scenario, with the Yankees playing the dastardly saboteurs, though the rebels aren't quite seen as heroes themselves. It's possibly more meaningful as a piece of historical influence than as a standalone film.