I read this as metaphor for the changing state of cinema.<br /><br />It came out the same year as the first major talkie, which certainly scared the bejesus out of Keaton.<br /><br />The railroad to the Civil War era is as the cinema to the early 20th century -- a frighteningly ubiquitous, revolutionary technology whose power was not fully grasped (think atomic technology to the mid-20th century). The real war here is between the silent stars and the synchronized sound revolution. The track is the linear stream of history and Keaton's train is pursued by its more youthful, vigorous counterpart. How does he fight its advance? sight gags, the way he's made his living. He chose to represent the south because even then he knew his was a dying art form, one that was eclipsed almost instantaneously. This film obviously had a huge budget, so studios still invested heavily in silent film, but Keaton knew what was coming.<br /><br />The score here is of interest too. It's not the kind of music you associate with comedy, certainly not what Chaplin used. Then I realized: Keaton is absolute deadpan, so in that light the music makes perfect sense -- it's deadpan too, just a dramatic observer of comic events, like Keaton himself, an observer of his own gags.<br /><br />Visually, it's remarkable, the motion of the camera, the balanced framing, the wonderful examination of nature fighting technology.<br /><br />There's something about Keaton too. He has that kinetic tension that allows a still face and form to enthrall, like Clint, Benicio, Brando. Really incredible to watch.