For those hording toilet paper

While I was putting together some written thoughts on Night of the Living Dead, Five Easy Pieces (1970) was on Cinemoi; it had been a few years since I last watched Bob Rafelson’s film about an angry man who fled an affluent existence for a less extraordinary blue collar way of life, and I have to be honest: Karen Black’s mistreated and unappreciated waitress girlfriend of Nicholson’s unsatisfied Robert Dupea, Rayette, makes this film for me. While Robert sleeps around on her, doesn’t provide her with the kind of affection and love she deserves, and just generally takes her devotion to him for granted, she is a sincere, completely honest character. Because Rayette is bubble-headed and says what’s on her mind, regardless if it is considered embarrassing or doesn’t necessarily present her as a Rhodes Scholar, she can be frowned upon or judged with scrutiny. I find her the one true character in the film…what’s you see is what you get. That can’t be said about Robert who appears to be one person and is actually from a completely different background. 

He just returns home and puts back on that status as if changing a suit of clothes. He can come and go as he pleases. Rayette doesn’t have such a luxury. Robert is ashamed of her. It should be the other way around. I think what this film does for me, someone who doesn’t come from an affluent but blue collar background, having worked since I was 17, worked in the factory during my young adulthood, went back to college after the factory closed, graduating, interning at a company, putting in the work to achieve where I’m at today. I don’t toot my horn or expect accolades, but I can sympathize with a Rayette far more than a Robert who had a life of ease at his disposal, hit the road because maybe the pressure of following his father’s footsteps was too difficult a task, bitching and allowing his discontent, anger, and outrage to surface with the public often bearing the brunt. Nicholson has the typical shit-eating-grin at times along with the snarky remarks that define the smart-aleck asshole of the 70s. There’s the celebrated diner scene (I didn’t even include an image for it here despite easy access to it) where Nicholson gets his knickers in a twist, has a temper tantrum because the miserable waitress (who had probably pulled a 12 hour shift, on her feet all night, having to take orders by plenty of disorderly customers) informs him that what he so desires isn’t on the menu, tossing items on his table into the floor like a juvenile child. He’s a hero to some, I guess, but he’s just a prick with few redeeming qualities to me. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be in his company for any duration. 

His family, thankfully, is a party of eccentrics. His brother had a neck injury (Papa Walton himself, Ralph Waite), wears a brace when Nicholson returns home the first night, and has the kind of personality that means well but says truthful statements that might sound purposely hurtful if he didn’t have such a hearty, loving attitude. Waite’s girlfriend, Susan Anspach, is “more his league”, because she’s more intellectual, aristocratic (she likes to ride horses and play tennis, and has an interest in the debate of issues reflecting society and art, also regarding philosophy and politics), and seems to have the intelligent capacity to *understand him*. She even fucks him because something about the man has an allure to women…oh, she resists because he for a while leaves her with a bad taste, but he’s just too irresistible (yes, sarcasm). Anyway, he comes home, we think, because strokes have left his father in bad shape, and because his unpredictable sister, played by Lois Smith (she has a bit of an impulsiveness in her, like trying to pursue a musical career, even in a studio with producers who consider her terrible but probably in for the long haul because daddy’s money is footing the bill; not to mention, she really has an interest for the hired help (played by the awesomeness that is John P Ryan)), begs and pleads for him to see their father while he’s still breathing. But their musical genius father is no longer in control of his mental faculties, completely tended to by others, and seemingly devoid of any understanding of what is happening around him, not conscious of his surroundings. It is a sad sight, really. Robert just seems impatient and restless, as if he just feels out of place. So he starts up a flirt with Anspach, for a while leaving Black at a hotel (yeah, nice guy this Robert). Black ingratiates herself with the family, while a congregation of elitists look down on her from their pedestal during an “intellectual party” just because she speaks from the heart and what comes out is deemed farcical to them. I just love Black. Her character, to me, is too good for Nicholson instead of vice versa.