“Medium Cool” (1969)
Haskell Wexler’s meta-hybrid is another essential artifact that mixes fiction with documentary aesthetics and comes straight out of the belly of the countercultural beast stirring in America at the time. Cameraman John (Robert Forster), at first indifferent to the political commotion surrounding him just before the Democratic National Convention of ’68, gets thrust into the movement when he finds out his work is turned over to the FBI without his consent. Posters of political leaders adorn wallpapers and scene transitions highlight the divide between white and black, rich and poor, ignorant and informed. Wexler — himself a member of many anti-war movements — shot the film in his home city of Chicago, making the real footage of protestors and troops feel that much more personal. As a multi-layered representation of its time, “Medium Cool” brilliantly fuses theatrics with reality until you can’t see the difference, all through an explosively charged and personalized home-video style. Magnificently shot (Wexler is, of course, one of the most influential American cinematographers) — from the opening credits of the biker riding, to Love’s instrumental theme, to the final moments, when the fictional narrative gets swept up by real life with frightening ease and urgency — “Medium Cool” presses its finger on the pulse of counterculture harder than most other films of its time, the anger of a generation percolating under the surface of every frame.
“Performance” (1970)
Produced in the turning-point year of 1968, Nicolas Roeg and Donald Cammell’s “Performance” was released two years later — and was instantly famous thanks to the on-screen debut of Rolling Stones frontman Mick Jagger. The film’s opening — featuring a bird’s-eye view of a Rolls-Royce slithering through the dainty English countryside intercut with a sex scene that silences the soundtrack with a psychedelic hush — is already a wordless and imaginative “fuck you” to the established order, not just of rich society but established forms of cinema as well. Essentially a gangster picture about an old fashioned thug-on-the-run, Chas (James Fox), “Performance” really gets into the nitty-gritty of its anarchic times when Chas takes refuge in a basement owned by ex-rocker Turner (Jagger). Descending into a Dionysian rabbit hole of sex, drugs, and rock and roll, Chas gets a first-hand experience of that “bohemian atmosphere” he sarcastically asked for. With this incisive portrait of an eroded identity, Roeg and Cammell create one of the most demiurgic pictures of the era, meshing traditionalist themes with a cinematic trip worthy of Jagger’s larger-than-life presence thanks to its exhilarating playfulness with editing, framing, composition, and sound. Nannette Aldred analyzes “Performance” through its counterculture prism and writes; “While there are references to psychedelia in its strobe-effect editing, electronic sound, distorted filmic images and use of montage, it attempts to go beyond an evocation of the visual and aural impact of psychedelia to consider how fragile any sense of order of the world might be.” Imperative to the canon.
“Five Easy Pieces” (1970)
As a timeless cinematic specimen that still manages to clinch dearly to its times, Bob Rafelson’s “Five Easy Pieces” is the most traditional (and maybe the greatest) film on this list. Jack Nicholson, among the most recognizable faces of cinema’s reaction to counterculture, gives an iconic Oscar-nominated performance as Bobby Dupea, a man who moves around a lot, “not because I’m looking for anything, really, but because I’m getting away from things that get bad if I stay. Auspicious beginnings, you know what I mean?” Along with a heart-tearing scene between Bobby and his father at the end, the most memorable moment from the film — and one of the most quoted examples of counterculture cinema — comes in an earlier diner scene, when a waitress refuses to bend the rules and customize Bobby’s order of eggs. “I know what it comes with, but it’s not what I want,” says Bobby (minutes before losing his shit in wonderful Nicholson fashion), verbalizing the unwritten motto of every freethinking youth movement of the day. The idea of community and bandying together against the establishment was all the rage, but films like “Five Easy Pieces” and its cousins (“The Last Picture Show,” “Easy Rider” and so on) resonated so effectively thanks to their depiction of alienation and solitude. This feeling of not belonging, and the hardships of moulding your identity according to a strict set of rules, reflect an all-too-common mood in times when people were continuously disillusioned in their environment. In this respect, “Five Easy Pieces” is a monumental piece of work.
“Valerie and Her Week of Wonders” (1970)
The second Czech New Wave film on the list comes in the form of Jaromil Jireš’s lyrical reverie “Valerie And Her Week of Wonders.” The film is “Alice In Wonderland” meets vampires, lesbians, witchcraft, polecats, magical earrings and one youth-obsessed grandmother through the eyes of 13-year-old ingénue Valerie (Jaroslava Schallerová). The fairytale vibe of the film keeps it unhinged to any particular context (or, indeed, space) — so much so that on first glance it’s tough to connect anything in it to the counterculture movement. But, examined from a slightly historical angle, its liberal and unconventional spirit soars. It’s a coming-of-age story about a young girl who at one point kills a chicken with her teeth and, with her bloody mouth, resuscitates her father (or is he?), restoring his youth for a fleeting minute before he transforms back into a blood-sucking monster (later on, he’s a polecat). Men of the cloth are villainous, sex-crazed creatures and my favorite subtle countercultural wink comes when Valerie helps a young married woman by sleeping with her — their tender moments in bed cut to the sounds of the church bell. Jana Prikryl’s must-read Criterion essay helps us appreciate Jireš’s film as a byproduct of its rebellious time: “‘Valerie’ might be read as a campy scherzo on the theme of how, given the right conditions, ordinary private longings can become charged with social significance — whether they can bear the added freight or not.”
