What’s playing at home? Today I re-watched Monte Hellman’s 1971 New Wave film, Two-Lane Blacktop. The first time I saw it I didn’t get it: James Taylor as a silent driver, Dennis Wilson (drummer for The Beach Boys), his robotic mechanic, Laurie Bird as the object of both their fancies, and a very listless Warren Oats racing across Route 66 for their cars’ pink slips.
Pink slips?
Oats drives a factory-new GTO. The driver, a heavily modified ’55 Chevy. The driver and the mechanic don’t talk much. In fact, the opening is a simple shot of the two of them on the side of the road: Taylor dabs his forehead while the mechanic tinkers with the engine. That’s it. While the camera lingers, we expect something to happen, we believe this is just exposition. But as the mechanic tinkers and the driver snoozes, it’s clear Hellman’s not giving us that inciting incident any time soon, and if he is, it won’t be much.
Two-Lane Blacktop represents the American New Wave movement at its peak. Richard Linklater said of the film, “Two-Lane Blacktop goes all the way with its idea. And that’s a rare thing in this world: a completely honest movie.” However, next to the more popular New Wave films such as Five Easy Pieces, Easy Rider or Midnight Cowboy, Two-Lane Blacktop is a film that doesn’t follow a traditional narrative. It lacks your typical three-act Hollywood structure, and is completely without sweeping camera techniques or tricks. Instead, the camera sits patiently while its characters fill the screen with muddled dialogue and random actions. The following scene is a perfect example of the film’s form and content.
The characters
Part of the film’s brilliance is the way it captures realistic speech. Taylor demonstrates this perfectly in all his scenes, saying each line with an underlying carelessness that epitomizes the male attitude of the 1970s without stereotyping. Sure, he’s got the long hair and says “man” at the end of every sentence. But the film never slows down to tell you his past or how he doesn’t have a job or parents that think he’s going nowhere. His actions speak louder than his words, and his words understate the alienation his generation represents.
A particular scene highlighting this alienation shows the driver and the girl sitting on a wooden fence. He sits pensively when she invites herself up and smiles at him. At this point in the film it’s clear he’s taken with her. So what does he do? He talks about the cicadas making noise in the background. This is the first time in the film we’ve seen him talk about something other than cars. The girl, the reason for his change, looks off saying, “You bore me.” Taylor stops. He leaves the fence and goes back to brood in his car. This scene is one of many that puts Taylor in an uncomfortable situation that further alienates him from the world.
Wilson’s no extrovert either. He’s not as dark, but he certainly doesn’t offer any friendly conversation starters. Instead, he occasionally comments on the condition of the Chevy. And that’s about it.
The girl leaves the film just as easily as she enters. Her first scene is done in a single shot: Taylor and Wilson eat at a diner and converse. Hellman doesn’t let us hear their conversation, he instead amplifies the ambiance of the restaurant. Through the window of their booth we see Bird come into frame, slip into their unlocked Chevy and take a nap. The next shot shows Taylor and Wilson get into the car without even acknowledging her. Of course by the end she’s more than just another tool for them to tinker with. She represents a lot of things not just for the film but for the time period as well.
The Chevy and GTO also have their own interesting characterizations. Many have analyzed the film to death, comparing the automobiles to the motorcycles in Easy Rider, calling them symbols for a confused America. That sounds about right. The film’s loaded with clever symbolism both hidden and obvious, increasing its replay value.
Warren Oats hangs most of the film’s lanterns, saying important lines like “You can never stay on the same high long enough,” and “Satisfaction doesn’t last.” If Bird is the human element in the film, Oats is the Greek chorus. Before meeting Taylor and Wilson, his only objective in the film is picking up hitchhikers and telling each a different story of how he obtained his precious GTO. He’s an obvious loser, and a possible foreshadow for what the young driver and mechanic may be in the near future if their listlessness persists. There are tons of other foreshadows that hint the theme, such as an awkward car wreck and random funeral, but the film is smart and doesn’t milk these scenes.
The shots
Monte Hellman and his crew literally picked up a camera and shot a movie. We see vast shots of Arizona, Arkansas and California in all their grainy glory. The shots are beautiful and real, a testament to New Wave style to film-making. Out here, Hellman could dismiss studio pressure and film whatever he wanted (granted, of course, he had a permit).
He also shows us some interesting parallel editing. In one scene, he cuts back and forth very simply between two settings. Taylor bar hops while Wilson sleeps with Bird in a motel room. Neither shot offers much action, nor should any intricate meaning be derived from the juxtaposition of these two, yet perhaps Hellman’s message is his lack of one. If these characters are going anywhere, it’s forward. Forward and nowhere.
The significance
I won’t analyze it to death, I just think a film this special is important to acknowledge especially in this day and age. Two-Lane Blacktop represents purity onscreen, at a time when filmmakers dared to take everything studios taught them and throw them out the window. The strength of the film is its approach to telling its story and showing its characters. Later, we’d see films like Badlands and Nashville that would take aloofness to a whole new level, but Two-Lane Blacktop got the ball rolling. It represents a film of endless possibilities, both in construction and content.
My buddies and I loved the film so much we’ve been working on our own New Wave inspired film, Gordon Moss. Two-Lane Blacktop had the clearest influence on its creation, and to show I’m not completely full of shit below are a couple shots to say what I mean:
