EASY RIDER (1969)

Ira says

There is something extremely disturbing about the final ten minutes of Easy Rider, a superbly executed sequence shot in a decrepit part of New Orleans that is so starkly in contrast to the film’s deceptively relaxed title or its general mood and tone, and so seemingly unexpected in the narrative that its shock and impact are that much stronger. Yet, not. (God, how I wish I could give away more. Here’s a hint: step aside Trainspotters and nod your hat to the early beginnings of truly trippy American new wave cinema of the late 60’s!). What’s funny though, is that if you think about it and start to put the pieces together, (because there are a lot of pieces which may seem disjointed while watching) something right on up there at the beginning of the film, mildly but logically, foreshadows that final section.

Considered by many to be the original ROAD MOVIE, Easy Rider is a moody, meandering, ruminative piece. But not one moment or scene is really random at all here, and Hopper knows that. Because this is not just a story about cool ‘dudes’ on motorbikes, on their way to the most liberal, cultural, sex and art festival in the world, its not just about the revelry of MARDI GRAS, about groovy music or male bonding, drugs, women, road trips and rebellion. It’s about symbols of a specific time in American cultural history, about characters that embody the attitude of a decade and it’s about the counterculture, anti-establishment adventure of a pair of quintessential 60’s antiheroes. These two, a man dressed in leather and the colors and stripes of the American flag (WYATT played by FONDA as a tribute to Captain America), his cowboy companion (Hopper playing Billy, after Billy the Kid), along with others, a hippie stranger (Luke Askew), a southern, white, blue collar lawyer (Nicholson), a commune of druggie nomads, sheriffs and bigots, and giggly go-to girls, each have a story to tell.

Hopper (who directs and co writes with Fonda) spends a lot of time setting up the atmosphere, introducing these characters, often without dialogue, often with cryptic, short exchanges, and always punctuated by a groundbreaking, thumping, rock infused, masculine, and soundtrack. But even beneath the drawling humor, the ‘yeah man’s’ and ‘no man’s’, the sexy, playful, lyrical, energy of a beautiful skinny dipping sequence, there is almost always a sense of desolation, of incompleteness, the sense of searching and finding purpose. When the film opens with a still wide shot of a dusty, old inn “LA CONTENTA BAR”, ‘The Bar Content’, the irony is not only in the physical, visible ruin, but its also hidden in the subtext of the characters and their lives in a crumbling, prejudiced, revolutionary period in America; the decade of the 1960’s. Real time sounds, the revving of motorbikes, and silent onlookers fill carefully constructed frames in a combination of quiet mid shots, closes and extreme closes during those early moments, as a short interlude in Spanish gives way to an implicit understanding and a illegal exchange between Fonda & Hopper and their South American drug ‘connection’. There are no spoken English dialogues till 9 minutes in; there is no need for them, a counterpoint to the overlapping voiceovers of the final scene making the films arc very poignant.

As our leading pair, Hopper & Fonda, Captain America and Cowboy adventurer, prepare to shoot off into the wild thereafter, its telling that they do it in silence. No screams of wild abandon, no excitable yelling, no idealistic fervor but instead, images of the American flag on Fonda’s clothes and helmet and close –ups of them filling the inner tubes of those fabulous choppers with dollar bills flood the screen, as they are armed with the money they need to conquer the country, Fonda casually discards his watch and the two drive off, their choppers’ tiny, bright lights the only small beacons of dreams to come, the way they hope to see and find the America they are looking for. And even as the first hints of rebellious freedom, of wild-spirited adventure, and of the age of sex, drugs and rock and roll swell to the tune of Born to be Wild when the opening credits take over, there is a quiet, sad steeliness beneath. It’s in the bare landscape, in the men’s faces, in Fonda’s voice as he tells a welcoming stranger who gives them a home cooked meal, that ‘he’s got a nice place’ and that ‘he should be proud he could live off the land’.

Because Easy Rideris so much more than just a road movie. It’s the story of two social misfits struggling to find their identity and it’s a raw, naturalistic cross sectional slice of American society in the late 60’s, brought to life by strong performances. And to me, most interestingly, it’s fuelled by the inner mind of the intense Fonda who as Captain America becomes almost an omniscient narrator, who always looks like something is going on even behind those smiling eyes. Hopper, who’s performance has a much lighter tenor to it, provides the comic relief, the ‘stoner’ sort of loopy humor and the laid back charm to their dynamic and the film. But what’s great is that as director, he catches that feeling in Fonda’s eyes with his camera while Fonda stares at a woman he’s paid to sleep with, lights up a joint by the light of a campfire or gazes in disbelief at the wonderful, whacky, wicked Nicholson (playing a drunkard, bigot, chauvinistic lawyer in a cameo that helped kick-start his career) and its these pensive, quieter moments that stay with you.

Even while the camera rolls and moves, surges forward on those exhilarating, well shot driving sequences, it stays still a lot, watching, lingering on real time action, as questions are left hanging in the air about the nature of man, civilization, of UFO’s, of what these men call home and of who they are. I loved the sound score, not just the music but also the use of natural sounds; the engines of the bikes, crickets, boots walking, children laughing. I loved the jump cuts, the edginess and the experimental style Hopper plays with. I loved that individual sections are held and play out so fully, no matter how seemingly insignificant, be it a long tracking shot in the hippie commune of faces just before a meal, an excerpt from a live performance on the hippie stage, casual references to politics, or current affairs, prejudiced comments by customers at a café, or Fonda & Hopper by a camp fire, getting stoned and just ‘being’. There is method in all the wandering and it’s arresting. I loved the use of motifs in the film, those almost phallic boulders and rocks, sporadically and sparsely appearing along the barren landscape, the symbol of men in isolation, or the meshes, fences, and camouflaging trees, obscuring frames and leaving you with a feeling of uncertainty, and the fantastic use of natural light where everyone and everything feels somehow brutally, embarrassingly real, and exposed.

In a humorous moment early on in the film, a paranoid Hopper watches Askew filling gasoline in their chopper and frets to Fonda about how their lives biggest earnings are at the mercy of a ‘stranger filling gasoline maaan’. A brief silence follows, and then Fonda pats him and says quietly, “Everything’s fine Billy.” At that point, don’t ask why, a tiny voice in my head was saying that nothing could be further from the truth. The single, last spoken line of the film rings in my ears even now, because the fate of these men, their journey and the condition of that time in American socio-cultural history boils down to the fact that maybe, just maybe if freedom isn’t what Billy, or Captain America or George Hansen or all the hippies praying for their supper stood for, if only Billy had got a haircut, things would’ve been different. As relevant today, in any part of the world, Easy Rider is not just a cult road, drug and buddy movie, but a thought-provoking coming of age socio-cultural human drama.

Neha says

A slice of life? A road movie? A buddy flick? All of the above? I can boldly put a check next to each of these categories but that’s a huge injustice to this “species” of a film that experiments with form and language at every turn and explores some deep rooted themes of freedom, hypocrisy and self discovery in a way that’s creepy yet provocative.

Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper’s 1969 Easy Rider truly gave birth to the American independent film and it was also the first to use popular music as opposed to a traditional background score, featuring pieces of Jimi Hendrix, The Band, Steppenwolf, The Byrds and many more. The music creates a rhythm and mood for the film and their revealing lyrics shrewdly play the role of a voice-over, taking us into the psyche of our two “born to be wild” long-haired, hippie bikers Wyatt (Peter Fonda) and Billy (Dennis Hopper) as they ride through long, winding country roads on their noisy Harley’s. Along with long shots that capture the sweeping, symbolic vistas to give the film its meditative tone, the music enhances this rite of passage in the lives of our two protagonists.

The film tends to get a little too vague for it’s own good but simply put it chronicles the journey of two “freedom” seekers who set out on a road trip from Los Angeles to Mardi Gras (New Orleans) with some money made on a drug deal. Wyatt gets the nick name “Captain America” and with the American flag imprinted on his helmet, jacket and Harley there is simply no question that the quiet Wyatt is the kind of guy who loves his country, even if his rock star, hippie look shows rebellion. He’s seeking individuality and that struggle sneaks up on you in a scene where he tells a helpful rancher “Not every man can live off the land. You do your own thing at your own time. You should be proud.” Billy, on the other hand is the perfect foil to Wyatt. He’s foolhardy, talks a lot and his drifting search is more of the sex, drugs and rock n roll variety. Think of them as the alter ego’s of Jai and Veeru from the cult Indian movie Sholay. Both Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper underplay their characters in a way that makes them quirky but relatable as opposed to cardboard reflections of the 60’s personality type.

They live with a hippie commune that pursues a like-minded freedom of spirit but are ironically slaves for their daily bread. In a wonderful Felini movie moment, the unrushed camera pans across countless enigmatic faces who pray to the lord before their meal, making us pause to reflect on the contradictions of their existence. Billy and Wyatt meet a free wheeling, drunken lawyer George played by a hilarious and unforgettable Jack Nicholson who has more answers than both of them put together. Whether it’s his million dollar take on the relationship between humans, aliens and politics or his penetrating observation of how freedom is misunderstood. They also meet a bunch of “conformists” and who better than the Sheriff, symbolic of the American system to represent that contrasting perspective!!! In a tense scene at the diner the Sheriff treats them like weeds rotting the garden…Something to chew on as it reflects the 60’s and the internal conflict between Americans who believe they are free and those “hippies” who believe America was free by design but not in spirit. There are moments of heartfelt nihilism that define the fate of our lead characters but the lingering aftereffects of those cold blooded, brutal moments are as knee jerking as they are confounding.

The simplicity of the outback is at times jarringly disrupted with some jagged editing that resorts to quick back-and forth jump cuts to capture night to day transitions and while this seems a little indulgent and gimmicky at first, it’s really the makers who have the last laugh. The climax brings Wyatt and Billy to New Orleans where they pick up two hookers and get off on an LSD trip. To recreate those hypnotic hallucinations, a montage of disturbing and metaphorical images loaded with biblical references are randomly juxtaposed with one another, moving at a breakneck speed. Physically, I was stone sober but boy did I feel the rush!!! Emotionally, I was disturbed by the tragedy of their search and intellectually I was left with an ambiguous but thought provoking question about the elusive nature of freedom.