Easy Rider Love

Below is a cool fashion shoot and video inspired by my new favourite film....

Also, check out this clip by cool Canadian band Sloan, it's a great re enactment of the opening scene in the film.

EASY RIDER

Man oh man oh man oh man, it pains me that until this very moment, I've never actually seen this film in it's entirety.

A great part of who i am today, is no doubt a result of the film's profound influence and effect on modern culture. The wisdom, philosophy, music, style, rhythm and flow of the film felt like everything and nothing I've seen. Definitely everything I've heard before, it's astonishing to me to consider that these songs were new at the time, imagine that!?!?!? It's one of the few times i can recall being so moved by the marriage of film and music.
Steppin Wolf, Dylan, Hendrix, The Byrds. But more to the point, it's about the songs, the feeling.

Then there's Peter Fonda, magnificent and humble. Dennis Quaid, adventurous and eager. Jack Nicholson, just perfect, always perfect.

It's the ideal film really.

A moment in time captured beautifully, some of it on 35mm, some 16mm, the LSD scene (one of my new all time favourite scenes) was apparently a visual accident, a result of leaked film.

                                                 

 

          

In any case, the format in which way we view the happenings throughout, seem's insignificant compared with the message. The collective pieces made something that feels truthful. They were reaching for something, grabbing at clues and ideas at any   and every turn. The commune, the self made man,  the stoner campfires, they are on the eternal American road redefining the
unattainable American dream, all before our very eyes.

69 was a lucky year for receiving this film.







       

ANNA KARINA

Karina, Karina......she dances under fairy lights.

         

ON THE WATERFRONT

What could possibly be said about this film that hasn't already? 


Who else could possibly contribute to the canon of film wisdom already dedicated to this masterpiece?


Not I really.


So, instead of a careful and painfully detailed synopsis of On the Waterfront, i'll just tell you what I thought......


It's fucking astounding cinema.
Seriously.
If every film were a zodiac sign, this would surely be a Taurus. 
Strong, stubborn, proud, bursting with good intention. 
Often questioning ones own moral and intellectual character. 
If this film were a car it would be a hard working Ford Pick-up, rusted but valuable.


You think I'm being flippant with this, but trust me I'm not. I often identify art in terms of a relative comparison.


Brando dances on film, his spirit, his expression, his voice. 
He moves on film like no one I've witnessed, perhaps touches of James Dean and Paul Newman et al, but they all express that same NYC school of brutal realism. 
But where Dean possesses an underlying sadness, Brando seems angry, which makes him just that bit more intense than the rest of them and perhaps it's what lies underneath that hints at that aura. An undeniable nonchalance that's brooding and incredibly attractive.


And then there's that dialogue, ya know, the line within that monologue towards the end:
"You don't understand. I coulda had class. I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am, let's face it. It was you, Charley."
 You've heard it a million times before, seen it worshipped at award ceremonies for decades, sat through a tonne of poorly impersonations. But to finally see it within the context of the film, to watch him react to his brother Charlie's sly admission of lowly character is something special.


When you watch a film like On the Waterfront, you have to feel very grateful.
Grateful that you are privy to view such artistic beauty within the confines of your own home.
Grateful that at that particular point in film culture someone with enough balls and savvy wrote a script that challenged certain ideals of the time and then you have to be grateful knowing that a team of only the most perfect human beings capable of expressing that sentiment were around at that very moment to contribute to what essentially becomes one of the greatest films of our time.


I am indeed more than grateful to have seen it!




  
   

Some of my fave film shots.......

    
                                                                                     

GAINSBOURG (Vie heroique)

Whilst I'm waiting for my next classic film to arrive in the mail, I'm gonna keep ya posted on the in between films i may have seen about town......I know this blog is dedicated specifically to working my way through the Top 100 filmlist, but rules are boring anyway.

So, a bunch of us went to go see Gainsbourg the other night at Baker St cinema, if you don't live in London, it should be known that Screen on the Green theaters are the most super dooper of them all. There are a few of them about town, they are small, unique, artsy dives where you can see the newest and oldest art-house/independent gems, grab a chilled glass of rose and kick back.

Tonight's film was Gainsbourg. Please keep in mind I have been DYING to see this film forever, it's a bio epic on one of Frances most respected and misunderstood legends, Serge Gainsbourg. I grew up loving his music, loving his style and of course that of his many muses and just, well, he is so undeniably, positively, beautifully French.

There are hundreds of reviews for this film currently out there and growing by the minute....some are praising the life out of it, some mystified by its success.

I sit on the fence.

I'm still trying to work out what it was about the film that didn't quite resonate with me the way I dreamed it would. I mean how could this be anything less than the immaculate visual and emotional inspiration for a girl like me?? Truth was, as my friend's put it, it was all about the first half.
There was a beautiful portrait painted of Serge's early life, which consumes a mere half the film, we develop along with him, through the war years, his artistic fumblings, first loves and so on.
And then we have the second half, BAM, POW, WHIZZ (as Bardot so seductively purrs at one point) we have the second half!
Qu'est-ce que c'est!?

A speedy and clumsy escapade through the trials and tribulations which spans the rest of his challenged existence. The problem is, well, he becomes an asshole. We stop to develop sympathy or remorse for anything he does or any outcome he is responsible for. And no, it's not true that we are unable to develop sympathy or admiration for the wildly uncompassionate protagonist...we do it all the time in films, often empathizing with the villain. That's the beauty of great cinema. Sadly though, we leave the film a little trodden instead, defeated perhaps?
We suffered through this momentous journey with one of music's greatest pop chameleons.....and what do we get for it?
A sudden ending and not much to hold dear to our hearts, but, like i say, for the first 30 mins or so of beautiful film making, which I suppose is more than most films today can claim to possess.
Pfff...c'est la vie ay!

UNFORGIVEN

Unforgiven, the last of the great great westerners they say.

Clint Eastwood's induction into the actor/director hall of fame.
It's grim and dirty, sparse and dusty, everything you want from a modern day western.
It feels like a Morricone score, looks like you're best nightmare and glows dimly like the remains of a distant campfire,

Eastwood plays the retired gunslinger, William 'Bill' Munny, who is mourning the death of his beloved and has since been struggling with his crops and two children. One day he is propositioned by a young cowboy who comes a riding from the distance, 'The Schofield Kid', who asks Munny to ride with him into the town of Big Whiskey where there is a bounty on the head of 2 cowboys who unjustly terrorised an innocent whore.

After brief consideration, he decides to take on this journey, along the way he pays visit to an old friend, Ned, who joins him for one last kill. Two retired, legendary cowboys taking to the plains and fields of Wyoming. Battling torrential rains, challenging landscapes and the rest.

They eventually arrive in Big Whiskey, faced with a tough crowd, predominantly in the form of the town sheriff Lil Bill, who takes joy it seems in kicking the shit out of anyone who dares walk his territory. And he does just that to Munny, who recovers in a barnyard near by until he can regain his strength. He is nursed back to health by the sweet young lady whose unfortunate fate has called him there in the first place.

She inevitably falls for the warm, handsome charm of Munny who does his darndest to protect and honour her, not just because he is seeking a reward, but because you genuinely believe he wishes to nurse her wounded spirit.

The finale is spectacular, it's so incredibly heroic you want to cry with the pull of every trigger and watchful glance courtesy of Eastwood. A piece of work which will undoubtedly go down in film history as one of the greats, regardless of time, space and genre.