Howl (2010)

The Beat Generation seems to be catching another wave of interest recently as modern filmmakers struggle to bring never directed visions to the silver screen, although it would be probably more correct to say that Beat poetry and prose never went out of style managing to carve its own niche in minds of scholars and literary rebels from around the world. I guess Howl has been made for this type of public – however you might call it: my people, our people or just these people – that appreciates Beat Generation's immortal energy and anger still rediscovering Ginsberg's greatest poem as it's been coined yesterday. And there's nothing wrong about it as some gutsy art just never gets old, in the worst case just sinking in to become a distinctive, cultural background.

Howl definitely carries the message with its vivid animation sequences by world famous, Leftist illustrator Eric Drooker, who put a lot of work to translate Ginsberg's poetic jazz into spiderweb of breathtaking images – I'd say it's the best thing about Howl, a kind of Waking Life stuff. A lot of work has been done by young James Franco as well, who plays Ginsberg in the movie treating his persona as it's been handed down on a plate with relaxed interpretation and no trace of pretentiousness (this self-conscious burden, that kills plenty of potentially great roles every year) although maybe short of some insight. Eventually we need to bow down to script writers, who cared about original trial of Lawrence Ferlinghetti so much, that they copied its words verbatim, which helped the actors to get a firm ground for character development.



The film hovers around Allen Ginsberg's personal life, his debut in The Six Gallery in San Francisco and the famous case of alleged obscenity filed against City Light Books in 1957, which originally issued Howl. The poem itself becomes a leading thread, a narration and a pretext for overlaying it with stunning animation for which the trial stands as a back story weaving in and out, either meeting it straight-on or jumping to "interview with Allen Ginsberg" and then carrying on. However we might find this concept, as fas as doing a simple portrait of one of the most important American contemporary poets is concerned it quite fits the picture. Thus we get through Ginsberg's homosexuality, his affair with Neal Cassady, his stay in mental institution and obviously his friendship with Jack Kerouac, and you won't hear a bent out note, oh no... the problem is that you won't get jerked up either.

For that reason my feeling about Howl is mixed. Film's irectors (Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman) lost a big chance to come up with a bigger picture of Ginsberg's life, his significance for counterculture of the 60's, for gay movement or for American poetry/art in general. Frankly it feels like cutting corners – Howl lacks emotional depth, rarely sparkles and after all doesn't come up with a flash of brilliance (I always expect)... in other words it fails to deliver spiritual madness of Beat Generation... this element, which for me is the most important, secret ingredient of their classic writing. Too normal for me? I'd say so, this is not what you really expect from a film about a guy, who at one point wanted to load everybody with LSD and Hare Krishna chants. Couldn't they reach for a little bit more than just a simple framework of legendary crumbles – however neat it is? I guess, we'll still have to wait for a talent, who wants to fuck Beat Generation open and show its dark underbelly.

Pull My Daisy (1959)

Although not even coming near to dark, surreal visions of William S. Burroughs and Anthony Balch, pictured in underground gems such as "The Cut-Ups" or "Towers Open Fire", "Pull My Daisy" is one of these obscure, experimental Beat movies, playing around with images and words to create a vision of hipster's soul. Written and narrated by Jack Kerouac it brings Robert Frank and Alfred Leslie as directors and Gregory Corso, Allen Ginsberg and Peter Orlovsky as actors (who play themselves). Moreover, we get Thelonious Monk bebop style soundtrack, which swings about as the movie goes on. Weaving on and off it supports a casual, accidental mood of the film.

"Pull My Daisy" shows Beat cohorts gathering in an usual Lower East Side apartment for couple of hours to swing, read potery, drink beer and smoke weed while they're interacting with tenants: railroad worker and his wife. Later on the party is being visted by the anonimous bishop and his partner. The only sequence shot outside the apartment is a strange street gathering, in which all characters jerk frivolously around the American flag. Narration is a goofy word spilling as Kerouac runs his jazzy overflow throughout the footage (inspiring and uplifiting our spirits). Breaking away from the linear his delivers lines more in a tonal, poetic way than tries to tie them up with logic. I'd bet they're heavily improvised anyway.

Ginsberg and Corso are dubbed by Kerouac to answer questions about buddhism and zigzag frenetically as they get tipsy. But when Peter Orlovsky finally arrives, it kicks into sort of artistic chaos. They swap bottles with booze, squeeze on the couch or play brass instruments, we know they cannot really play. Everything is innocent fun here and although straight people do not really get the meaning of this fooling around, they are embraced by the Beat wave of madness if they want it or not. Angels with dirty faces are here and they're gonna change the world (as we'd read it back then). Light-hearted, experimental short – an interesting artifact from America's important cultural and literary movement.

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Scorpio Rising (1964)

"Scorpio Rising" is one of three most important Anger’s works, being crude and gritty like a coal in the same time. Still this amazing short comes across with a very peculiar social and occult agenda, concerning Aleister Crowley’s discoveries in the field of aeonic shift, which Anger harnessed to his artistic vision making great use of his reformed system of astro-psychology. Besides strictly magickal message this picture is a very enjoyable collage of "The Wild One" samples, vintage movie about Jesus Christ and homosexual-biker footage shot by Anger himself featuring fictional, outlaw MC… and you even get Elvis singing "Devil In Disguise" (great rockabilly classic). Going a little overboard you might say it was a first 60’s biker movie while it definitely had some proto-biker flick quality.

However, what makes it special is indeed it's mysterious message. Scorpio is rising… hmm? Bikers? Jesus? Elvis? How does it mingle? First of all Anger believed in a doctrine of art as magick, where every act reveals the Will, which brings Change. The movie was supposed to break open viewer’s head communicating something very significant. The old world was crumbling and the new one was being bulit! "Scorpio Rising" is in fact a prophecy of the cultural change, but to understand it better, you’ll have to inevitably dive for a second into the world of Aleister Crowley – probably the most important occultist of XXth century.



Scorpio is a zodiac sign – represented in the movie by a brute – while the sign is a symbol itself. As Crowley wrote in his books, Scorpio must be considered a fiery water element, an active one. It corresponds with Tarot Of Thoth card number XIII (Death), being ruled by "planet" Mars (symbolic representation of war and destruction instincts). As Crowley put it out, this card leads from putrefaction to exaltation, which means that element forces necessary change without a danger of being grinded in the process. Death card features a skeleton with a scythe (a biker) and a fish (Jesus), which represents swiftness and cold-blooded ability of survival. Anger played out both symbols to proclaim that in fact change will be brutal and vicious, but even if the old religions are already gone, the new energy possesses spiritual insight to lead the way. In the end he was right!

When you look at the high 60’s revolution (especially 1968), his insight comes sound and clear. Anger made his picture before the worst shit happened, but he felt the storm coming. He was even marching on Pentagon with his own platform trying to do his part. When you take all that into account, "Scorpio Rising" stands out as the only picture where speed-crazed, savage lads on choppers are being granted a spiritual status. I suppose that "The Born Losers" and "The Glory Stompers" never pulled off any correspondences of this sort, hence if you are seriously into occult cinema, this is a must-see for you!