You Know Billy, We Blew It: Easy Rider (1969)

When the powers that be that controlled Hollywood from the onset of the silent era to well into the 1950's fell out of control, what happened to American filmmaking would forever change viewers understandings of cinematic narrative.  With non-linear narratives and Soviet style montage sequences American moviegoers, thirsty for something revolutionary were enthralled by the psychedelic and cool stylings of New Hollywood filmmaking and while Easy Rider was not the first film to offer such imagery and commentary it has, undoubtedly, come to represent the era more so than any of its contemporaries.  Between its drug-induced soundtrack, Odyssey-like quest story and its purely disparaging commentary on the state of youth in America, it represents the 60's masterfully and manages to still say something honest and uncomfortable about the state of society, regardless of being almost fifty years old.  One of the many contenders on my "coolest movies" list, Easy Rider makes you want to jump back in time and strap on an American flag leather jacket and simply cruise the highways of America, not because you are out to prove yourself a bad-ass, but because you truly hope to find the meaning of everything between a cup of coffee in a diner and a revelatory trip on lsd next to some cacti.   However, just like Jack Kerouac's prolific novel On The Road, Easy Rider takes away the coolness of nostalgia, by slapping on a harsh reality that the ideal world of the past is easily disrupted by those who interfere out of irrational hostility and a loathsome fear of change.  Easy Rider is hardly a story of redemption and it is certainly not intended to be taken lightly, but between the magnitude of such a low-budget film and the fact that it was ever produced in the first place is something to celebrate in itself and let us not forget that the film is in the AFI Top 100 film list for a damn good reason, it is with little argument one of the most American films ever released.

Easy Rider follows the exploits of Wyatt (Peter Fonda) who also refer to himself as Captain America, in honor of his motorcycle and jacket adorned with the stars and stripes and Billy (Dennis Hopper) a leather jacket long haired hippy who is preoccupied with making money and getting stoned.  After a successful drug sale, Wyatt and Billy decided to take their newfound fortunes and travel across The United States, with the ultimate intention of stopping in at Mardi Gras.  Along the way, they meet a variety of individuals who provide them with details about the American experience, one that is clearly muddied by disillusionment.  The first individual they encounter is simply known as The Stranger on the Highway (Luke Askew) and asks for a ride to his compound in the desert of the Midwest.  There Wyatt and Billy witness an "off the grid" community of youth that have left the city in hopes of ascending their corporeal existence into something more spiritual.  However, it is clear that their existence is more focused on orgiastic free love and heavy drug use than anything else.  Itching to get to Louisiana Billy cuts their stay there short and they continue on the road towards the southern state.  Along the way the are arrested for interfering with a town parade and are forced to spend a night in jail, there they meet a functional alcoholic named George Hanson (Jack Nicholson) who just happens to be a well known lawyer and helps the duo out of jail in exchange for tagging along with them on their trip.  Donning his old football helmet, George becomes a pseudo-guide through the south and all seems fine until they enter into a local diner, only to be ridiculed and ignored by the servers due to their unconventional attire.  Distraught the three spend the night in the woods outside the town and are eventually attacked by a group of locals, which results in the death of George and injuries to both Wyatt and Billy.  Enraged the two continue on their quest to New Orleans and eventually make it to an infamous brothel. There they meet two girls and spend the night together, partaking in acid and having a crazy trip.  After this experience Billy and Wyatt hit the road again and have become quite upset with the state of their trip and decide to call things off completely, however, before they can return from where they came they are gun downed by two rednecks who think it a fun game to fire a shot gun at the passing motorcyclists.  The film then ends not with a nostalgic remembrance of the two travelers, but instead, just an image of the flaming motorcycle as the screen pans out in an incredibly reflective moment.

Easy Rider is not the first motorcycle movie released by any means, nor is it even the first movie with either Peter Fonda or Dennis Hopper that places its central focus on the experiences of motorcycle driving rebels.  What Easy Rider is the first to do, however, is to condense all the concerns, commentaries and dilemmas that plagued young America post-1968 into one film and boy does it make a lasting impression.  While it is never fully acknowledged, we can come to assume that Wyatt is a Vietnam veteran, his choice to wear the American flag being an ironic homage of sacrifice to an ungrateful nation.  His relatively clean look suggests a man traveling cross-country in the hopes of finding an answer to his existential sense of loss.  He seems to interact earnestly with each person he encounters; hoping that they will provide him a reason to continue on, sadly this never seems the case.  In opposition then, is Billy, whose constant state of intoxication and anger suggest a man who is trying to outrun something.  If we find ourselves confused about Wyatt's past, even less is known about Billy aside from the fact that he really wants to get laid and retire with money in Florida.  In fact, it is quite clear that many of the characters within Easy Rider combine into a pastiche of the collective disillusionment of sixties America.  Whether it be the stranger who desires a complete disconnect from technology, or George who is so overwhelmed by his parental expectations that he spends his days drinking himself into oblivion, simply because he cannot stand to reside in the harshness that is reality.  The film is problematic in that it only focuses on the narratives of white males, but there is certainly a possibility that Hopper intended this as another layer of commentary on the issues of America during the time, it is impossible to say, but worth considering.

Key Scene: The drug trip scene in the New Orleans mausoleums, as filmed by Laslo Kovacs is hands down the best drug sequence in a movie ever....and I mean ever.

I was ecstatic when Criterion released its box set of the "America: Lost and Found" series and was finally able to purchase it about a month ago.  This is one of many films in the set and is well worth purchasing, the Bluray transfer of Easy Rider looks phenomenal.

I Like You, Clarence. Always Have. Always Will: True Romance (1993)

This movie has everything going for it, a Tarantino script, poetic fight scenes and a veritable who's who of 90's actors.  One could quickly imagine this concoction failing miserably, but luckily, the film is treated with finesse in the hands of Hollywood big shot Tony Scott.  It takes an impossible storyline and makes it ever so believable, even though such a story could not exist in a reality outside of cinema.  It is fun, fast and intense and has all the sustenance one would expect from a film involving Quentin Tarantino.  However, what is perhaps most surprising about this film is that it is that Christian Slater's parts are enjoyable, an occurrence that seems impossible in many of his other films.  It is hip, over-the-top and celebratory of a culture from days gone by, it is what a blockbuster popcorn and soda movie should be enthralling to the point of inducing catharsis amongst its viewers.  True Romance is a film that you will become consumed by and not realize you have been watching a film until the credits begin to roll.  A contemporary classic if ever one existed, True Romance is just plain enjoyable.

The narrative, as one comes to expect with Tarantino, is garnished with hipster cultural references and healthy doses of kung-fu films, particularly those of the great Sonny Chiba.  Furthermore, the films characters are inextricably attached to these references, most notably the protagonist Clarence (Christian Slater) who fancies himself a modern day hybrid of Chiba and Elvis that dons Hawaiian shirts and a lax attitude to the world around him.  Clarence appears content to waste his days away employed at a comic book shop until he is brought into a seemingly chance encounter with Alabama (Patricia Arquette), a call girl hired by Clarence's boss to show him a good time on his birthday.  It seems too good to be true, and almost is, until Alabama confesses to harboring legitimate feelings for Clarence, causing her to instantly reject her job as a call girl.  This is easier said than done particularly since her pimp is a faux thug by the name of Drexel (Gary Oldman).  The threat of Drexl does not disturb Clarence, however, and he takes it upon himself to personally kill Drexl.  In a rather comedic moment, Clarence confronts Drexel, ultimately killing him and running off with a suitcase that he believes to contain Alabama's personal belongings.  Clarence quickly discovers that the suitcase actually contains a very large amount of cocaine, something to the tune of a million dollars worth.  Realizing both the problems and possibilities of his new acquisition Clarence contacts his father for advice and then heads out to Los Angeles, where he believes he can get rid of the cocaine quickly for a decent amount of money.  The rest of the film sporadically deals with Clarence as he tries to unload his drugs.  The film includes cameos from Dennis Hopper, Christopher Walken, Brad Pitt, Bronson Pinchot, Samuel L. Jackson, and James Gandolfini amongst others, all culminating in a gorgeous shoot out that is both obnoxiously grandiose and minimalist simultaneously.  It is an action film nerds dream and is pretty much flawless.

I recently finished reading bell hooks' Reel to Real: Race Sex and Class at the Movies and was thoroughly impressed by hooks' concise, yet astute criticisms of many of Hollywood's contemporary films, particularly her brief discussion about Pulp Fiction.  In an piece titled "Cool Cynicism" hooks points out the issues of problematic images in the films of Tarantino, particularly demeaning images of racial stereotypes, homosexuality and spousal abuse.  In Tarantino's films, he makes it a note to state that these are problematic, but rarely are these issues dealt with.  In fact, the cool characters often only receive slaps on the wrist for their bad actions.  Take Marcellus Wallace for example, he is a very bad person, yet his stature and bad as a motherfucker attitude reward him with survival and the ability to castrate his homosexual pursuer.  He is chastised for his negative actions, but in no way reprimanded.  The same case can be made for True Romance, in so much as the film core focuses on the transferring of a very large amount of illegal drugs.  True Romance is only concerned with people who legitimately benefit from drug trading, the dealers and big wigs.  It, with the exception of a few black dealers who die, ignores the lower class individuals who are victimized by drug wars.  By doing so Tarantino's script once again wags a finger at drug use, but fails to note the truly devastating effects of the drug trade, for a better expose on this issue check out Steven Soderbergh's Traffic.  Sure most of the characters involved in the trafficking die, but Clarence and Alabama survive living their life out with the help of a large amount of dirty money.  In Tarantino's eyes, they used corruption to their advantage, which is great for them, but still sucks for those being dealt unseen damage by said corruption.  It is a classic case of cinematic cynicism, masked in a cool and engrossing narrative.

All things considered, this is certainly one of the best movies released in 1993.  The film is a bit dated at times, but still has a timelessness that will make viewers instantly enamored with its wry dialogue and cultural fluidity.  I recommend getting a copy and making a viewing night of it with friends.

Put A Chain Around My Neck And Lead Me Anywhere: Out Of The Blue (1980)

After falling off the face of the directing earth for most of the 1970's Dennis Hopper stumbled into directing Out of the Blue after its original director dropped out at the last minute.  This matter of happen chance could not have produced better results.  A film that had been banned for years finds itself popping up in three pack DVD collections, truck stop rental booths and perhaps least surprisingly Harmony Korine's top ten film list.  The films is not so much graphic as it is desolate, given that a relatively large amount of the film is set within the punk scene of Canada, while the rest centers around a bird infested junk yard.  It is a film that signifies all the scathing criticism evoked in Easy Rider, yet given that this particular film was made for television it uses subtle acts of deviance as its source of inspiration.   The film is likely unwatchable to many viewers, but those with a knack for the avant-garde and a love for the late auteur Out of the Blue will be quite the cinematic excursion.

The narrative of Out of the Blue is rather disjointed, but this should come as no surprise given the directorial styling of Dennis Hopper, what is for certain is that the film focuses on the tumultuous life of the young Elvis fanatic Cebe (Linda Manz) whose preoccupation with being a punk ruins her ability to excel in school or garner legitimate friendships.  The second factor hindering Cebe's success is her unhealthy attachment to her father Don (Dennis Hopper) who has recently ended a stint in jail for drunkenly crashing into a bus full of children, an accident in which Cebe was present.  To make matters worse, Cebe's mother is a heroin addict who is incapable of standing up to Don and is oblivious to the troubles her daughter is experiencing.  With this set of forces working against her, it is no surprise that she is sexually confused, inclined towards drug use and inextricably attached to the rebellious imagery of punk rock.  Cebe finds solace in hours of drumming away and playing guitar, while constantly quoting her idol Elvis.  The film for the most part only continues to survey the problems evident in Cebe's life, particularly her particularly problematic idealization of her father, who is perpetually drunk, destroys work property and at one point attempts to rape his daughter to assure her heterosexuality.  Through all of this Cebe continues to adhere to her ideals of punk rock rebellion, ultimately leading to an act of self-destruction that kills her self, as well as her mother, claiming that she like Sid Vicious must take away the ones she loves form the cruel and unjust world in which she lives.  Her rebellion burns brightly and quickly, only to fade away in the films closing credits.

This film is brilliant in its study of the decaying of American familial ideals.  Sure, the film was made in Canada, but it is obvious that Hopper had his eyes set on contradicting the emerging conservative ideals of family as they related to America particularly.  Cebe is by no means a heterosexual character, in fact, she often morphs her sexuality for certain situations, donning a dress at one time to please her father, while wearing jackets and button up shirts to assert authority in a male-dominated world of music.  Similarly, the drug addicted nature of both Cebe's parents reflect growing issues of substance abuse that would emerge in the 1980's, an issue that the Reagan administration would approach with little to no success.  Finally, the film deals in great length with problems of poverty and the barriers it produces.  Cebe is arguably homeless, often spending nights sleeping in the wreckage of her father's accident and much of her daytime is spent at her mothers job.  In fact, the only images of Cebe in a home setting involve her playing music, implying that any semblance of a home life immediately results in her desire to escape, making her homelessness both literal and metaphorical.  The structure of nuclear family does not exist in Out of the Blue, and if Hopper's ending is indicative of anything, the possibility of rebuilding such a family is very, very unlikely.  Out of the Blue burns with opposition to anything and everything conservative, and is a faint flame to its predecessor Easy Rider.

Please buy this film, it is a shame that only poorly produced copies exist.  I am certain that if the right company cleaned this film up its critical acclaim would expand.  It is not a matter of curiosity, but necessity that you check this movie out.