Easy Rider (1969)
Director: Dennis Hopper
Had I seen this before: Yes, a long time ago
In my last post I indicated that I watched this movie "immediately" after Lost in America, which, if I'm being honest, is not exactly what happened. What happened was, I more or less immediately went to the library and checked out the DVD and then set it on top of the DVD player and proceeded to watch several other movies that were more appealing to me in the moment instead, up to and including 1995's own neon demon Batman Forever. Why, you may be wondering, was I more interested in a kiss from a rose than a widely-referenced, era-defining classic? Because I vaguely remembered it being serious and kind of boring and depressing and about boys who had a lot of ideas about themselves. And I'm not going to sit here and tell you that it absolutely is not any of those things, but this was a case of low expectations being a boon to the movie-watching experience, which was not exactly transcendent but not at all terrible either.
First of all, a huge percentage of this movie is just footage of the leads driving through late-60s America on motorcycles, which is a pleasant sort of travelogue. One of my favorite aspects of older movies is just a chance to be immersed in a world that existed before I was born. Let me see those clothes and hairstyles and phones and signs and what kind of dishes and glasses they used and how they decorated houses and shops, I can't get enough of it. So I appreciated being given significant lengths of time to just be immersed in the specific world that they were navigating. I also appreciated the true independent filmmaking at work, the low-budget, do-it-yourself-ness of the thing.
The leads themselves are not what I personally consider the best hang, although they were intermittently interesting. Billy, played by Dennis Hopper, is all jumpy energy and unpredictable tangents emerging from under his impressively wooly 'stache. He says "man" a lot, man. He's the kind of character who is fairly compelling on screen but you would absolutely not want to get corned by at a party. Wyatt/Captain America, played by Peter Fonda, is taciturn to a degree that is sometimes frustrating, although probably a necessary counterpoint to Hopper. They both make me nervous.
Evergreen reminder that I am not a film scholar, which I feel I always have to apologize for when approaching an important movie. So I don't know what I'm talking about! Read a book if you want well-researched context! But I thought it was interesting that the avatars for the counterculture in this movie are the two cocaine-smuggling dirtbags, contrasted with the seed-sowing, free-loving hippie commune where they are briefly guests. (Full disclosure regarding my personal temperament: the only time I related to Billy was when he was like "I have to get out of this corny-ass commune this second.") I did like the complexity inherent in the fact that the "protagonists" are pretty hard to root for and are ultimately a failure in basically every sense, but you also can't get on board with the violently reactionary country that rejects them. (I mean, maybe you can? In which case, what are you doing here? Did we go to high school together?)
Anyway, the only character I was actually interested in was Jack Nicholson's soused southern lawyer, probably because his was the only part that actually involved written lines rather than just stoned on-camera musings. He's also a good actor! Don't know if y'all had heard. He is basically the movie's only source of humor--not that he's a jokester or whatever, but he's doing that wry Jack thing and he has some real weirdo quirks that I found compelling. His energy is mercurial in a way that's more fascinating than threatening, which is really saying something because generally speaking Jack Nicholson is nothing if not a walking cloud of sinister energy. Like, I'm slightly ashamed to say it, but his ideas are intriguing to me and I would like to subscribe to his newsletter. I felt a palpable upswing in my engagement with the movie when his character showed up, and a matching downshift when he was spoiler spoiler spoiler murdered. I wouldn't say it was an emotional reaction to the situation--just slightly bummed to be back with only Billy and Captain America for a while until, of course, they spoiler spoiler spoiler are also murdered! By entirely different rednecks!
Anyway, the moral of this film is that if you set off across this great land of ours and look like a dirty long-haired hippie on a bike, the chances that some white guy in a pickup truck will shoot you are approaching 100%. Probably safer to look like an ad executive in a Winnebago.
Line I repeated quietly to myself: "Mime troupe?"
Is it under two hours: Yes
In conclusion: In case you were wondering about the corrupting influence of this film, it did make me want to smoke weed and listen to someone's surprisingly detailed theory about aliens; it did not make me want to drop acid with sex workers in a New Orleans cemetery.
Deep-Dish Blackberry Pie from Louisiana Kitchen & Culture
Pretty early on, the main characters are served a family-style meal at a large homestead. "Please don't be beans," I thought urgently, right before watching a huge scoop of beans hit the plate. Later, they eat at the hippie commune--not beans, please--and I'm going to say the food was largely unidentifiable, but almost certainly bean or bean-adjacent. By the time they pull up to a rural Louisiana diner boasting "HOME MADE PIES," my optimism had waned. "Please...eat a pie," I begged half-heartedly, knowing deep in my soul that they would not. Turns out they don't eat anything at that diner, of course, but it was too late. My mind was made up. So here is a pie that they might have enjoyed had they not been summarily rejected by rural America based on their appearance and, I'm guessing, their odor. Anyway, I had this pie for breakfast three days in a row and my life was slightly better for it.
Up next: The funniest movie ever made about child abduction
