Easy Rider

This summer marks the fortieth anniversary of the release of Easy Rider, a motorcycle picture made for $350,000 that has ended up being emblematic of a generation. A big hit when it was released, it's undergone some reappraisals since then, becoming something of a bellwether for attitudes about the sixties. At times, such as the Reagan eighties, it was pretty much relegated to the status of a relic of the counter-culture, like a wizard bong. But today, when Hair can be a hit on Broadway, Easy Rider looks pretty relevant, and darn if it isn't a pretty good movie.

Low budget biker flicks were a staple of the sixties. Peter Fonda, Dennis Hopper, and Jack Nicholson were veterans of them. Fonda got the idea for the film from a real incident in which two biker hippies were killed in Florida. He got Bert Schneider (the man behind the Monkees) to executive produce, and Columbia put up the money. Fonda produced, Hopper directed, and they both wrote the screenplay, along with Terry Southern (who also wrote Dr. Strangelove, among other films).

Easy Rider is firmly set in the Western idiom, with Fonda and Hopper starring as Wyatt and Billy (names lifted from two heroes of the Old West--Wyatt Earp and Billy the Kid). They buy some cocaine in Mexico, and then sell it to a rich guy near LAX (played by the recently convicted Phil Spector, who provided his own Rolls-Royce). They take the cash and hide it in the gas tank of Fonda's chopper, and then head across the American West to Mardi Gras. If we didn't get the Western connections, there is a pointed scene in which Fonda and Hopper work on their bikes while in the foreground a rancher works with his horses. Clearly these two bikers are the outlaws of their day, riding across the land, camping out at night (no motel will rent them a room), and living in complete freedom.

The two ride through Monument Valley, a nod to John Ford, and pick up a hitchhiker, Luke Askew. He takes them to a commune, where naive young escapees from suburban America are attempting to create a utopia. The script looks at them with something of a gimlet eye, as Askew tells Fonda that these are city kids who have no idea how to grow food, and will probably starve. This section of the film is also enlivened by a scene at an Indian burial ground. It was completely improvised (it should be also noted that whenever characters are smoking pot, the actors were really smoking it). I loved when Fonda asks Askew if he ever wishes he were someone else. "I'd like to try Porky Pig," Askew answers.

Fonda and Hopper move on and end up in a jail cell in some small hick town. They meet Nicholson, who shares a cell, coming down from a bender. He is a lawyer who works for the ACLU, and gets them sprung for a minimal fine. He also tells them they're lucky, because this part of the country has a "scissor-happy American beautification" program, taking rusty-razor blades to long hair. When Nicholson hears they are headed for Mardi Gras, he wishes he could go along. "Do you have a helmet?" Fonda asks, and Nicholson says he does--a football helmet, which he wears as he happily rides behind Fonda.

At this time period Nicholson was a star of marginal films, like Roger Corman horror pictures, biker films, and as the author of Head, the psychedelic Monkees film. For Easy Rider he received the first of his sackful of Oscar nominations, and he sure deserved it, making his George Hanson a vivid creation. He's the son of privilege in a redneck town who is sympathetic to the counter-culture without being part of it. In the film's crystallizing scene, he tells Hopper, as they sit around a campfire, "This used to be a hell of a country. I can't understand what went wrong." Hopper says that they are disliked because of their long hair, but Nicholson corrects him, that what they fear is that hippies represent freedom. Hopper says, "What's wrong with freedom?" and Nicholson replies, "But talkin' about it and bein' it, that's two different things. I mean, it's real hard to be free when you are bought and sold in the marketplace. Of course, don't ever tell anybody that they're not free, 'cause then they're gonna get real busy killin' and maimin' to prove to you that they are. Oh, yeah, they're gonna talk to you, and talk to you, and talk to you about individual freedom. But they see a free individual, it's gonna scare 'em."

While they are with Nicholson they stop at a small cafe where local rednecks regale them with an onslaught of insults, while the teenage girls flirt with them. Hopper had his casting director use actual citizens of the small Louisiana town, and told them to say anything they wanted, and the vitriol flows like water. I think the best insult is the older man who says the bikers look like the result of a gorilla love-in. The boys decide they aren't so hungry and move on.

Eventually Fonda and Hopper make it to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. They end up at a whorehouse, where they pair off with Karen Black and Toni Basil (yes, the dancer and singer who had a hit with "Hey Mickey"). Here is where the film takes a turn toward the excess of sixties filmmaking that today seems most dated--the acid trip. The four of them drop acid while in a New Orleans cemetery, and we get some surreal images and trippy editing.

The film then ends famously with the two of them being blown off the road by another pair of overall-wearing rednecks (the one with the gun has a monstrous goiter on his neck). Is this the death of idealism? It's hard to say, since the two of them are not really represented as white knights. Hopper is nakedly capitalistic, a guy who always wants to push on and has the ultimate dream of getting rich and retiring to Florida. Fonda is more Zen (and his nickname is Captain America, as his bike and clothing are covered with the stars and stripes), and during the last dialogue sequence he cryptically tells Hopper that "We blew it."

What's amazing about Easy Rider is that through all of the marijuana haze, this is a well-made movie. Hopper took a year to edit it, and his influence from European filmmakers is evident (he utilizes a lot of flash cuts, even giving a quick cut of Fonda's burning motorcycle some ten or fifteen minutes before it happens), but it all works. The cinematography by Laszlo Kovacs is stunning. From what I've read, this is how it was among the hippies. Communes ended up as filthy sties of child neglect and bad nutrition, and it's true that, especially in the South, people were beaten or even killed for having beards or long hair. The division of America was clear and succinct, and if you weren't with us, you were against us. This feeling is palpable in the film, particularly in the cafe scene, which has a rich tension.

Then there's the music. In those days all that was needed to put a song in a movie was the artist's permission, so Easy Rider is full of classic rock songs. The opening credits are to Steppenwolf's "Born to Be Wild," which is a blast of energy, and then there are songs by The Byrds, The Band, Jimi Hendrix, The Electric Prunes, and Bob Dylan. It's quite a time capsule.

Easy Rider ending up being one of the films that marked a major shift in Hollywood, as the old guard gave way to the rebels, which led to the remarkable seventies. If it's true that Hopper and Fonda never made as interesting a film since then (although Hopper shows up as a supporting actor in a lot of fine films) then they certainly did their duty with this one.