Easy Rider (1969) (Columbia) (94 mins) (C) (DVD) (V) (R))
Directed by Dennis Hopper
Screenplay by Peter Fonda, Dennis Hopper and Terry Southern
Produced by Peter Fonda
Associate Producer; William L. Hayward
Executive Producer; Bert Schneider
Cinematography; Laszlo Kovacks
Editor; Dean Canbern
Art Direction; Jerry Kay
Music; Steppenwolf, Bob Dylan, Jimi Hendrix, The Band, Roger McGuinn, The Holy Model Rounders
Budget; $340,000
Gross (U.S.) $30,000,000
Release Date 7/14/69
Aspect Ratio 1.85:1

Quotes:

George Hanson: (Jack Nicholson) This used to be a helluva good country. I can't understand what's gone wrong with it.
Captain America: (Peter Fonda) I'm hip about time.

Plot:

Two former stunt show performers; Captain America (aka; Wyatt) (Peter Fonda) and Billy (Dennis Hopper) score a lot of money when they sell drugs to a wealthy Connection (Phil Spector). The Captain and Billy have long dreamed of making enough money to retire to Florida and now their dreams have become a reality. After buying stylish and powerful motorcycles, the two set off across late sixties America; a country at war with itself and its children.

Synopsis:

One night, Peter Fonda had an epiphany. Having seen the success of films like The Wild Angels (1966), Hells Angels on Wheels (1967) The Trip (1967), Psych Out (1968) and The Glory Stompers (1968), Fonda had an idea. What if someone made a movie combining the biker ethos with the counter culture? At two in the morning, he called Hopper. Awakened by Fonda's call, Hopper agreed to direct and co-star in Easy Rider before returning to bed.

Producer Burt Schneider's father, Abe, was the head of Columbia Pictures. After his son joined the company, Abe shuttled Burt to Screen Gems, the studio's television division, thinking he couldn't cause much trouble. To Abe's amazement, Burt was soon responsible for The Monkees (1966-1968) which was a gigantic hit. Despite the failure of Burt's first feature; Head (1968), which starred The Monkees, Abe agreed that Columbia would distribute Burt's movies

When Peter Fonda brought Easy Rider to Schneider's B.B.S., the company was flush with profits from the TV series. Burt Schneider read Fonda's outline and decided that the film's $340,000 budget was a good investment.

The success of The Monkees funded Easy Rider.

A few months later, Fonda was at a party in Paris, talking of hiring a screenwriter for Easy Rider when a voice said "I'm your man." It was Terry Southern. Fonda knew Southern's reputation and admired his novels and short stories. He told the writer that the budget of Easy Rider was too small to accommodate his fee. "I'm your man," Southern again told Fonda.

With Easy Rider, Hopper and Fonda were out to create "the biker film as art movie." That they succeeded is largely due to the luminous cinematography of Laszlo Kovacs. As The Captain and Billy travel the highway, the passing American scenery becomes an additional character in the movie. In an interview, Hopper said, that Kovacs is "the best telescopic cinematographer I've ever worked with."

Kovacs, Fonda and Hopper saw Easy Rider as a modern western. The territory covered in the film includes large stretches of the desert known to film buffs as "John Ford Country." As The Captain and Billy glide by towering rock formations, familiar from countless westerns, the spirits of John Wayne and Harry Carrey watch their progress with genial bemusement.

Contrary to popular myth, the Easy Rider shoot was hardly a party. Pressured by time constraints and lack of funds, Hopper drove his company ruthlessly. The actor proved to have a volcanic temper which was unleashed at the least provocation. For example; after having given several people cameras to cover Mardi Gras during the New Orleans location, Hopper called the group to a meeting. "Never forget I'm the director," he said "And not one foot of film is to be exposed without my permission."

Trained by Strasberg and Kazan in "the method," Hopper wasn't above using tricks he probably had learned from his mentors. During the graveyard sequence in New Orleans, Hopper went to Fonda who was sitting on the lap of a massive, female statue. At this point, The Captain and Billy have taken LSD given them by Luke Askew's Stranger when they left his commune.

Hopper knew the Fonda family history, "Peter," Hopper suggested, "tell your mother you forgive her." Fonda was stunned. He thought it completely unfair for Hopper to use memories of Francis Fonda's suicide to motivate performance. Still, he realized the moment would be powerful and carried out Hopper's suggestion. Though we can't quite hear what The Captain is saying, the graveyard scene remains one of the most emotionally resonant of the movie.

Jack Nicholson wasn't supposed to be in Easy Rider. By this point in his career, he had begun to think of himself more as a writer than an actor. Yet, when Rip Torn turned down the role of George Hanson, right before shooting began, Fonda prevailed upon Ncholson to fill the void. The result was a nomination as Best Supporting Actor Though he lost the award (to Gig Young), Easy Rider made Jack Nicholson a star.

After shooting was complete, Hopper spent six months editing and came up with a cut that ran four hours and ten minutes. After seeing it, Henry Fonda told Peter that he "had a good movie in there somewhere." Frustrated by the director's inability to further trim the picture, producers Rafelson and Schneider reluctantly took control. Locking Hopper out of the editing process, Rafelson, Nicholson and Fonda began cutting Easy Rider with the help of credited editor Donn Cambern. Initially furious, Hopper eventually agreed to see the edited version. After viewing their cut, Hopper said "Never let me in the editing room again."

One innovation that remained from Hopper's version was his innovative method of getting from one sequence to another. Inspired by the films of Nouvelle Vague directors Truffaut, Resnais, Goddard and Chabrol, Hopper rejected the use of opticals. There are no fades or cross dissolves in Easy Rider. Instead, at the end of scenes, the old and upcoming scene alternate on screen in brief flashes before the new scene takes over. There are also flashes interspersed throughout the picture of events yet to come. For example, at a dark moment in New Orleans, we catch a glimpse of (The Captain's bike burning by the roadside.

For a temporary soundtrack, Hopper laid in songs by Bob Dylan, The Byrds, Steppenwolf, Jimi Hendrix, The Band and other rock artists. The real score was to be composed by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. After the musicians saw the film with the temporary track they told Hopper to keep it as it was. "We could never top that." Crosby said.

Easy Rider was one of the first films with a track consisting of already existing songs. Its release triggered a landslide of "laid-in" soundtracks. Five years later, the success of Jaws (1975, Steven Spielberg) and Star Wars (1977, George Lucas) brought the orchestral score back to favor, courtesy of John Williams.

Easy Rider was released on July 14, 1969. The studio had little faith in the movie, thinking it just another biker epic. As a result, Columbia didn't concentrate much advertising on the picture. It opened in a few theaters in key cities where a slowly building phenomenon began to take place. Each week, the film made more money and the crowds got larger. A sizable segment of the population, who usually spent cash on rock concerts rather than going to the movies, had embraced the picture.

Eventually, Easy Rider, which had cost around $340,000 to produce, racked up a domestic gross of over $30,000,00.

In the time honored practice of copying the current hit, older producers rushed to make "protest films." Yet movies like The Magic Garden Of Stanley Sweetheart (1970, Leonard Horn), R.P.M. (Revolutions Per Minute) (1970, Stanley Kramer) and The Strawberry Statement (1970, Stuart Hagman) were conspicuous failures. Easy Rider, whatever its flaws, was the real deal. The other pictures were zircons.

Easy Rider is a snapshot of the forces at work and at war in the late sixties. Though the film has dated badly, it remains an evocative time capsule. It also reminds us of an extremely creative period in American film. For a few years, maverick directors were able to make personal movies expressing unique viewpoints minus studio interference. Every time you went to the theater, there was a good chance you'd see something challenging, new and different. Audiences were eager to join filmmakers on a seemingly endless exploration that ended too soon.