The Last Movie

The Last Movie would have been much better if Dennis Hopper hadn't let his hippie friends in the editing room. If the scenes where rearranged in a chronological order rather than being non-linear as it is, it would have stood a chance. However, the late 60's/early 70's (which many critics consider a "golden era" in filmmaking) was a time of experimentation, so if Hopper wanted to be self-indulgent he was in the right time at the right place. This is one title that begs to be recut. I would suggest a DVD with the original cut on one side and a new directors cut on the other. It would be fascinating to hear Hopper's audio commentary for further insights into where his mind was at the time (if he is capable of remembering, that is). By the way, this movie won first prize at the Venice Film Festival, so it wasn't the total failure (artisticly) that many critics have tried to make it out to be. I personally like it. The only other non-linear film I can think of from that era is HEAD(1968) which was far more succesful in terms of structure, or rather, non-structure. Had these films been commercially successful they might have revolutionized filmmaking, or at least spawned a non-linear film genre.

This movie isn't nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be. But I don't know how to recommend it, or to whom. Do you like Dennis Hopper? Well, here he is, in almost every scene, and he never looked better. A beautiful face, the graceful cowboy. In fact, he appears so genuine in this film that I begin to realize what an acting job he was doing in Easy Rider. The scenery is haunting, and the movie has a poetic, lyrical rhythm....yet sometimes seems to go on too long, and the mind wanders....but I loved the feel of it, the primitive environment of the Peruvian village, the ever-present mud....contrasted with the lewd and crude wealthy Americans. And I happened to enjoy the home-movie aspects of this film, also. I delighted in picking out Dean Stockwell, Peter Fonda, John Phillip Law, etc. in the Hollywood on Location shots....I loved the spontaneity of the last scenes of dialogue....hell, I loved seeing Kris Kristofferson sitting on a rock singing Me & Bobby Magee....but would anyone else?

The biggest problem with viewing The Last Movie is that it actually has two parts.

The first part of the film where the citizens of a Peru village try to duplicate (for real) the violence of a western that has just been filmed in their village raises some interesting question (some put forth by the town's priest).

The problem is at a critical point for the main character (the only member of the crew to stay behind) the movie suddenly and without warning shifts gears into the second part which can best be described as 'the making/behind the scenes of the Last Movie.' Worst yet this part of the movie doesn't have any rhyme or reason in the order in which things are shown so it can be a confusing 5 minutes before the viewer figures out what has just happened. And even after the poor viewer does figure out what has just happened trying to follow this part of the film is next to impossible as it is so disjointed.

It is a pity as the premise of the film is a good one and if the film had stayed with that premise it would have been a great film. Instead you have part of a great film followed by a disjointed mess.

I watched this film twice. The second time I watched it I was simply trying to figure out why I liked it the first time---but like it I did. Usually I don't like this kind of film, because I think they're pretentious. (NORTHFORK, as an example.) I think if ten people watched this film, those ten people would take ten different journeys and wind up at ten different destinations--so I can only describe what I felt---and it really was, for me, strangely enough, only a feeling.

For me it boils down to this: I'm from Oklahoma. During the early years, growing up in the great American heartland, the moral compass is very clear for most people. But the feeling, as you grow older (and migrate away from your roots), that with each season something precious is slowly draining away, and that things you care deeply about become like sand dunes that change shape and form with every rising sun---and there seem to be a progressive sense of loss---loss of the north star, reference points, meaningful trails in your life, until one day you are forced to stop and ask yourself, "Where am I, and what the hell do I care about anymore?" That's when you go to the pound and adopt a dog. I'm sure that my response to the film had absolutely nothing to do with what the authors intended, but I liked the film very much, and can't help but feel that this film is vastly underrated and was never given a fair chance.

Dennis Hopper's now notorious second feature fulfilled the promise of 'Easy Rider' by doing to his career what those Southern rednecks did to his character at the end of the earlier film: blasting it to an early grave. Given the disposition of its maker and the attitudes of his era it's not surprising the film took shape the way it did, but unlike the more unified mess of his debut feature (in retrospect a happy accident) this sophomore effort is merely chaotic: an ill-conceived, sloppily executed, helplessly edited riot of unintended laughs.

There's a germ of an idea here about the essential artifice of movie-making (in which the film itself finally disintegrates into random outtakes), but the director painted himself into a creative cul-de-sac by envisioning a project that had to fail in order to succeed. And fail it did, famously so, putting all of Hopper's drug-induced limitations on public display. Seen today, it's a fascinating example of professional self-destruction, and a laughable catalogue of hippie flotsam scraped from the bottom of the '60s barrel.