Buster Keaton tackles the rare villainous role, a thoroughly rotten outlaw, in this strange, ice-crusted sorta-western. After emerging from "the end of the subway line" in the frosty tundra of deep Alaska, Keaton gets right to robbing casinos, firing guns at the backs of strangers and making passes at a neighbor's wife... all crimes of convenience that don't go according to plan, but they're still pretty dark acts. There's barely any narrative to speak of, either, just a few clips of Keaton running through the snow to bridge the divergent scenes and a bland, overused climactic jape.

_The Frozen North_ is disorganized to the max; scattered and unfocused like a grab bag of unrefined ideas. Perhaps understandably so, as Keaton's head wasn't really in the game during production. At the time, his friend and former partner, Fatty Arbuckle, was being judged in the press and blacklisted ahead of a much-publicized manslaughter trial and Buster took the about-face of many industry acquaintances very personally. That almost assuredly led to the film's angrier tone and less-focused production. _The Frozen North_ is also, evidently, loaded with topical humor that's utterly lost on most sets of modern eyes, including my own. The despicable cowboy Keaton plays, a selfish scoundrel, was understood at the time as a send-up of William S. Hart, star of many such pictures, who was a vocal critic of Arbuckle's despite never crossing his path. In that context, the film takes on a new light. I'd still consider it one of Buster's worst, both for the structural disarray and the hopelessly dour spirit, but at least I can understand his reasoning.