A Decade Under the Influence

By Janet Kent

Movies are a guilty pleasure. Even before the complete corporatization of mainstream cinema, there was something about “movie” that seemed sinister. The near-total sensory experience suggested a fascistic application from the get-go. You know, the music swells—suddenly your stomach lurches, a lump rises in your throat even when you don’t really care what happens to the character. Lighting, sound, cinematography, even the trance-inducing flicker, combine to manipulate the viewer. Despite, or more likely because of, these trappings, film continues to be an irresistible art form, a fact which becomes more disturbing as its controlling elements are increasingly used solely in the service of capitalism.

A Decade Under the Influence, by Ted Demme and Richard LaGravenese, is a glimpse at a period in film history when movies were different — a document of a brief moment of hope when successful filmmakers wanted to change the world, when things looked like they could have gone the other way. And how it all fell apart. The eponymous decade is that much maligned era, the 1970’s — considered by many to be the zenith of American cinema. The documentary’s title is partially a reference to director John Cassavettes’ landmark film A Woman Under the Influence. Cassavettes used almost no money, a group of unpaid friends and family members as actors, and mostly handheld camera work to shoot possibly one of the most moving films ever made. I could write pages just on Gena Rowlands’ portrayal of a woman losing her mind — but we have a whole decade to cover here. Cassavettes’ films inspired a host of young aspiring directors with how much could be done with little funding or equipment.

A Decade Under the Influence is composed of interviews with various filmmakers, actors, producers, and crew members from this fertile period interspersed with clips from their movies. According to their testimony, American cinema had been fairly stagnant in the 60’s. The turmoil of that decade had not made it onto the screen. Discriminating viewers looked to foreign films for inspiration. And there, in the work of the French and Italian New Wave directors, young Americans saw what was possible outside the Hollywood system. A film could challenge, threaten, even confuse — not just placate — the viewer. Suddenly there were a lot of would-be directors with change on their minds. They saw in film the possibility to reach a multitude of people with their visions — they just needed cameras and distribution.

Enter Roger Corman. This B-movie kingpin took a chance on a team of wackos — namely Dennis Hopper, Jack Nicholson, and Peter Fonda. Believe it or not, their collaboration Easy Rider made the ensuing onslaught of remarkable films possible. With Easy Rider, the film industry saw that a movie made by inexperienced people about the counterculture could make money. This type of film might even bring the industry out of its slump. Studios began to give money out for risky ventures to unknown directors. Robert Altman, Martin Scorcese, Francis Ford Coppola, Peter Brogdonavich, Hal Ashby, and others cashed in on the opportunity. And often, it worked. Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore spoke to the growing numbers of newly divorced working moms. M*A*S*H* presented soldiers as real people, not glorious archetypes. The Godfather was actually given to Coppola in the hopes his Roger Corman training would help him do it cheaply. Many of these films became successful, including Taxi Driver, The Excorcist, Apocalypse Now. In the interviews, the directors spoke of the time when you could pitch almost anything to the studios and get a little money to make the movie and get them distributed nationally. Even movies with topics that seem revolutionary today were commercially viable then. Dog Day Afternoon is a sympathetic look at a foiled bank robbery in which the perpetrator Al Pacino attempts to rob a bank to pay for his lover’s sexual reassignment surgery. That this film was not only nominated for Best Picture but was commercially successful is astounding. There is little doubt that it would not even get funded by a major studio today.

According to those interviewed, the 70’s was a time of remarkable freedom for filmmakers. Sex could be openly discussed and depicted for the first time. Movies could handle other touchy themes — classism, divorce, prostitution, racism, violence, government scandal. “Obscene” language could be used to express the disempowerment of the characters, not just as filler for inarticulate screenwriters. Filmmakers didn’t create pretty pictures to soothe and numb. They often depicted uncomfortable, disillusioned protagonists, ambivalent morality, and miserable people. A film like They Shoot Horses, Don’t They, which depicts the culture of depression-era dance marathons in which a nihilistic Jane Fonda induces her co-star to shoot her and put her out of her misery — one can hardly imagine a studio executive giving the thumbs up to that proposal these days.

Even the look of the films from that era is refreshing. The apparent lack of sophistication gives the films a raw feeling. The film itself looks gritty, the performances rough and strong. It’s like you’re watching the record of something that happened — not a hyper-orchestrated artifice. Even the performers look different. There wasn’t a coherent standard of beauty for the actors. Seventies filmmakers broke with the former Hollywood tradition to shoot real-looking people. Actresses like Sissy Spacek, Shelly Duvall, Ellen Burstyn, Diane Keaton, and so many others were chosen for their acting abilities — not their faces. These women picked roles that challenged society’s norms. They didn’t settle for another “how to get and keep a man” comedy. The discussion of women’s roles during this era in this film could be much longer. Fifteen minutes of a three hour documentary seems hardly enough time. Actress Julie Christie alludes to the male domination of the industry even at its freest. But her comment is quickly glossed over and I want to know more.

This complaint aside, A Decade Under the Influence is an excellent documentary — if, like me, you’re nerdy enough to want to watch a movie about movies. Even if you’re not a film lover, it’s an interesting look at how money can ruin an art form — because the golden sheen did not last long. What happen? Jaws. Seriously. Jaws was the first film to be released all over the country at once. Before that, films started in a few cities, built up an audience, then went on to more cities. Then came Star Wars. These films made so much money in ticket sales and merchandise that studios were blinded by dollar signs. That became the absolute goal. They wanted every movie to be a blockbuster, to make the cost of a film back in two weekends every time. The era of risks was over. Three or four endings were shot and shown to test audiences for maximum appeal.

And the young arrogant directors? Their now-plush Beverly Hills lifestyles made them soft and out of touch with the turbulent emotions that helped them create their former thought-provoking cinema. And what about the audience? A Decade Under the Influence shows footage of moviegoers interviewed leaving the movies that explains it all too well. One man leaving Star Wars says, “this is the best thing that’s happened to me since I was a kid.” A woman says, “I’m tired of seeing movies that make me feel bad. I want to feel good.” After nearly a decade of challenging films, the American public didn’t want to see movies about people with depressing lives like their own. They wanted escape — what “movie” meant before the 70’s. The Best Picture nominee list from that era offers up one after another of complex, disturbing, well-made films. Compare this to what’s won best picture since them — Forest Gump, Titanic, Gladiator...

A Decade Under the Influence, made by the Independent Film Channel, ends with a declaration of independent film as the savior of a dying culture. Which is no new news to Hollywood itself, as studio sharks patrol the independent circuit for raw talent that might reenergize an obviously depleted industry. I, unfortunately, am less optimistic than the makers of A Decade. As the title suggests, the people involved with American film in the 70’s were very much under the influence — of their youth, of immense social upheaval, of disillusionment with government, of drugs, of a desire to depict the world as it is even at its ugliest, and mostly under the influence of the notion that they actually could impact their viewers and their world. In short, they had hope. An attribute that’s pretty tough to come by when faced with the corporate dominated movie industry that exists today. Does that mean young aspiring filmmakers should give up? No. But let’s be aware of the trappings of the medium, let’s learn the lessons of those who came before us — and be careful what we wish for.