There's an obvious Lacanian reading you can do here, but why would you settle for obviousness? Lacan would never.
You can tell this was made by a man with nothing but the most acute contempt and ignorance for how movies move. The best moment is when Buster Keaton shifts his shoulders as he's destroying the Fish-Eyed Christ (one of the hoary totems of the Imaginary that makes him feel the gaze a-workin'). Everything else is horribly literalist twaddle, an archaic triumph of machine mentalities over the ripples of physical experience.
"In February 1965, when on a trip to West Berlin, in deference to his recent work with Buster Keaton, Beckett went to see Keaton again in his 1927 film The General, finding it, however, disappointing."
Elizabeth Bishop, in a letter to Anne Stevenson: "I don't like heaviness. I think one can be cheerful AND profound!—or, how to be grim without groaning—"