The Last Movie (1971)

recommended

an ambitious but ultimately ineffective debut endeavor.

One of the most extraordinary films you will see this year. Take that as you want.

Through painfully honest and emotional moments, the movie becomes irresistibly relatable

1971 saw some of the freakin' weirdest movies ever unleashed -- Carnal Knowledge and Klute (for those seeking sex), Bananas and Willy Wonka (for those on drugs), Clockwork Orange and 200 Motels (rock and roll!), and leave us not forget Harold and Maude (suicide played for laughs!), Pretty Maids All in a Row (funny serial killer?), Werewolves on Wheels ('nuff said), and Willard (for who can resist a lovable killer rat?).The late Dennis Hopper went to his grave insisting that this homemade 1971 hallucination was his own Citizen Kane, even as the rest of the world filed it somewhere between Cecil B. Demented and Glenn or Glenda. Hopper felt this way even AFTER he was sober. Few have ever seen this flick, which is really a pity, as it deserves to be seen -- if only to marvel anew at whatever crazy sheeit they were smokin' in Hollywood back in '71 ----

A little credit is due (I guess): Dennis Hopper made it huge with Easy Rider, took his momentary carte blanche and made, for all intents and purposes, a movie he wanted to make. No holds barred is putting it lightly. It's like Hopper stumbled over the bars while on acid and just let the natives come around and stomp on it till the term 'hold' was soaked in alcohol and set on fire. It's cinematic anarchy that reigns with a sword of originality and hubris, and it's always coming right from Hopper's soul. The Last Movie, this said, is not a very 'good' movie. I'm not even sure it's "anything" of value. But it's surely one of those must-see "personal" movies all the same. For any film buff it's simply stunning - and I don't mean that fully as a compliment.In a way I feel sorry for this production. Hopper did have a script, somewhere, and even had a writer with him as well, Stewart Stern, and the opening 25 minutes of the film is fractured but feels contained in its "meta-movie"-ness. It seems actually clear enough to follow: a film crew is in Peru filming a movie, a western, directed by none other than Samuel Fuller, and there's lots of intensity on the set and, at other times, weird vibrations in the off-hours. Hopper is a stuntman who works on the production, but once it ends he sticks around, and sees the Peruvians re-enacting the film that has just been made, only with "equipment" made of sticks and stones and other things. So far, so good, more or less, and, again, Samuel Fuller directing a movie in a movie! It can't get much cooler than this can it? As it turns out, there is even more story and scenes that make sense, such as the romance (or lack thereof) between Hopper's Kansas cowboy and a Peruvian woman, Maria. These scenes, along with the rough seduction of Kansas to another woman who happens to wear a mink coat, rang true past the weird intentions of the film-making and into the personal for sure. Hopper in real life shouldn't matter in the course of the movie itself, but it is so self-reflexive on the end of making the meta-movie that it spills over into his real life with women (when you see it you'll understand). That, plus an allegorical storyline involving a foolish and failed attempt to go gold mining, seem to at least add emotional grounding for chunks of the picture.And then, other times... it's just drivel, repetitive movements and rhythms and sudden things like "Scene Missing" cards. The problem that Hopper didn't see while editing, not while hopped up (no pun intended) on enough drugs to run a mega-pharmacy on the moon, is that the meta-movie qualities and his flourishes and mad jump cuts and time reversals and non-linear-ness don't always serve in favor of the actual story. There are certain moments and scenes that stand out wonderfully, and are even filmed and edited with scary precision and capturing the beauty of Peru (oh, and the opening gunfight as part of the movie-in-movie is amazing). Other times, it's just tricks and things, devices and obstacles that just add dead weight to the running time. It's non denying it's art, but is it always interesting? No. Sometimes, it just sticks out way too much as being "important" art, forced when at other times it could be natural and fitting for the already strange premise.It's basically this: a very talented filmmaker (and for all of his ups and downs in his career, more downs than ups, not least of which the stigma that followed Hopper after he made this movie and didn't direct another for nine years) and an unlikely and electrifying actor, got loaded with all of the praise that someone like him didn't need, already cooking with loads of free-loader friends sticking too many hands in the creative pot, and, in the end, got in the way of himself. A lot of The Last Movie burns with raw energy and crude dramatic thrills. And the rest of the time, it just looks like it needed an editor, ONE editor that was sober to go along with the one other sober cadet on the production, the late-great Laszlo Kovacs as DoP. Alejandro Jodorowsky might be a kind of genius, but an editor for someone else's project he definitely isn't.So should you see it? If it's available (it's hard to find) and you're willing (maybe do a coin toss) and you aren't expecting a John Ford movie (please don't), give it a shot. It's not an easy movie to defend, and I probably can't on a reasonable level. But as a personal statement of an artist on the edge, you could do worse (i.e. Southland Tales, the only thing that comes closest in ambition and faulty technique).

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.

Okay, in order to understand ANYTHING in this movie, you have to keep the plot in mind:1.) A crew of American moviemakers come to a South American country to shoot a western.2.) The villagers become mystified by the film crew's amazing doodads and create a cult that involves creating giant, non-functional bamboo movie equipment (film reels, projectors, etc.)3.) The Dennis Hopper character is in love with this chick.4.) His friend is obsessed with finding gold. Um....Clearly, Dennis was rapidly going insane. One look at this makes it clear why he didn't make many movies after that.