Monday, January 6, 2014

Two Lane Blacktop (1971)

"Two Lane Blacktop" is a difficult film to describe. It's equally difficult to explain how I feel about it. I rented it from Netflix a few years ago because Dennis Wilson was in it and I love the Beach Boys. I watched it and didn't feel as if there was enough going on in the plot to hold my interest. Later, a film-buff friend of mine who's opinions I value raved about this movie in a discussion about Warren Oates and I felt like maybe I missed something. Criterion had a half-off "flash sale" a few months ago, so I picked this up on Blu-ray to watch again.

James Taylor (the driver) and Dennis Wilson (the mechanic) are two twenty-something gear-heads traveling the country in a souped-up '55 Chevy challenging locals to race for money. The two don't even seem to like each other, really, but their livelihood depends on their shared interest in the car. Stoic and soft-spoken, the two of them are codependent nomads existing from their racing winnings. Along their travels, they bump into Warren Oates (GTO) often enough that he thinks they're fucking with him. After a verbal confrontation, they agree to a cross-country race to Washington DC for pink slips. Oates is the complete opposite of Taylor and Wilson; brash and flashy, talking loud and saying nothing, driving a brand new 1970 GTO, but lacking any mechanical know how. While talking to hitchhikers he picks up along the way (including Harry Dean-Stanton), Oates' backstory story changes each time he tells it. He's a man on the run from his past, but no explanation is given as to why. There's also "The Girl", a bored and disconnected hitchhiking hippie played by Laurie Bird, starved for human contact, but finds herself surrounded by people who care only about their cars.

Director Monte Hellman's use of space might be too much for a lot of people. There are long periods where there is no dialogue and there really isn't a plot to speak of. The race to DC is the only real plot element and the people involved don't seem to care one way or the other how it turns out.   The characters don't even have names and are referred to only as "The Goat", "The Girl", etc.  As a road movie, we're treated to an abundance of great exterior shots. We see America as it will never be again, both in it's landscape and in the freedom the characters experience. While the illusion of freedom exists, the players are all trapped by either their interests, their past, or in the case of "The Girl", her present.

I liked this a great deal more than I did the first time around, but I still feel as if I'm missing a lot of what I'm supposed to be taking away from it. I tried to just enjoy it for what it is, and I did this time. Warren Oates is especially good in this, possibly my favorite role I've seen him in. I'm still not convinced this is the masterpiece people claim it to be, but that might change next viewing. If you liked "Easy Rider" but thought it was too "hippie", give this one a try.

4/5



 

Chained Heat (1983)

I've been looking for this much praised WIP classic for years and finally found it on a Mr. Skin 2DVD set with "Red Heat" and "Jungle Warriors". I had my reservations going into it after seeing the abysmal sequel, but a lot of people consider "Chained Heat" to be the greatest women-in-prison movie of all time. It's also the movie Linda Blair blames for ending her film career. The details on the DVD box claim "Chained Heat" is completely uncut, but Amazon reviewers say a rape scene was cut along with a scene of someone shooting drugs.

Blair stars as the Carol, the level-headed first-timer, and Sybil Danning as Ericka, the woman-not-to-be-fucked-with. All of the clichés are here; sadistic prison guards, corrupt warden, lesbians, prostitution, rape, drugs, riots, soapy shower scenes and enough wool to knit a sweater. "Chained Heat" adds bit of racism to the formula, but only to take advantage of it later for a predictable "if we want to get out of here, we have to work together" device during the film's climax.

It's a fun way to spend 90 minutes, I guess, and the sort of thing I would have worn out on VHS in the 80s, but without the benefit of nostalgia it's just another genre cash-in with better than average tits. John Vernon is great, as usual, as is the synth score by Joseph Conlan, but everything else was just okay. There just isn't enough skin to make up for the plot holes and lousy acting. Compared to some of the WIP films of the 70s, this is pretty tame. There are numerous violent scenes, including a couple of deaths, but with the exception of the rape scenes, none of it is particularly brutal. I'm not sure why this is so coveted by WIP fans. Maybe people were just aching to see Linda Blair topless? This is heaps better than the sequel, but didn't live up to the hype for me.

3/5