It had been many years since I'd lasst seen Bob Rafelson's Five Easy Pieces, and really all I remembered were the oil rigs, Nicholson's swagger, and the "hold the chicken between your knees" diner scene. So I was quite unprepared for the full force of what I saw last evening. As a matter of fact, the film may be the key work of the new wave of American cinema, that glorious period that began with Bonnie and Clyde and ended sometime between the summers a shark attacked and the Jedi were given a new hope.
This is, of course, the film that made a star out of Jack Nicholson, which is fitting, since no other actor, side from Dustin Hoffman, embodied the new, independent spirit of Hollywood movies of that era. Jack was not handsome. Jack was not even likable, in the way James Stewart was likable, or admirable, the way Gregory Peck was admirable. No, Jack was a funny looking, sarcastic rogue, with enough charm to appeal to men and women alike, but a far different charm than that of Cary Grant or Clark Gable. Perhaps the closest to a prototype for Nicholson's onscreen persona was that of Humphrey Bogart, but even that doesn't fit. Bogart, for all his physical shortcomings - his lisp, his height (or lack thereof) had an inner grace that Nicholson couldn't be bothered with.
In this film Nicholson plays Bobby, a man drifting through his life, running away "when things start to get bad". He was born into a family of musicians (his middle name is Eroica), and ever since he started to play the piano, at age eight, he began running from it. Currently he's working at an oil rig in Southern California, shacking up with Rayette, a waitress into Tammy Wynette, and hanging out with his pal Elton, who lives in a trailer with his wife and small child. Bobby is content enough with this life, that is, until things start to get bad, as they do when Elton tells him that Rayette is pregnant. Bobby runs into his sister, who tells him their father is dying, and this precipitates a trip to visit the family, who live on a small island in Washington state (presumably in Puget Sound). Against his better judgement Bobby brings Rayette with him.
At this point the film (a) goes from great to a masterpiece, and (b) becomes the best Ingmar Bergman film ever made by an American director (take that, Woody). Nicholson's character, which up to this point was merely fascinating and fun to watch, becomes deep and complex, and Nicholson's performance takes on a luster which, sadly, he was rarely called upon to duplicate later in his career.
In 1970 America was divided, and this film, without mentioning politics once, even in passing, demonstrates that divide as well as any film of the era. The distance travelled by Bobby from his family home, full of intellectual discourse and framed portraits of Beethoven and Schubert, to the oil rigs and bowling alleys of Southern California, and back again, is a gap that we have yet to bridge. It's a testament to the films of the early 70s that we could see that gap, and an indictment on the current American 'indie' film scene that, when they show the diversity of our society at all, they only do so to ridicule one side or the other. It's a sad thing that there hasn't been an American film made in the past 10 years that could hold a candle to Five Easy Pieces, and I don't see one on the horizon that will, either.
