So That's What They're Calling It Now

Easy Rider (1969) is actually a pretty bad film. Once you get beyond Jack Nicholson and a bit of road footage, there's not much there. I can see why it changed Hollywood. If a movie that incoherent can make so much money, the guys on top must have figured they didn't know the market any more.

So they gave money to new filmmakers, hoping to cash in on this youth market. One of most obvious follow-ups was Two-Lane Blacktop (1971). The Monte Hellman film, starring rock star non-actors James Taylor and Dennis Wilson, is about a cross-country race for pink slips. Even this short description is too kind, since the story doesn't really go anywhere--it's not good when a road picture doesn't go anywhere--and is full of characters too cool, or addled, to care about anything.

It flopped, of course. Some have tried to make a case for the film. For instance, there's an appreciation in Slate by Elbert Ventura. His argument: "Watching Two-Lane Blacktop today, what leaps out is how unpretentious it is." Well sure, nothing seems to be happening. I guess you can't get more unpretentious than that.