End of the Road

Man, it is hard to digest some of the bile and acrid animosity of many of the comments here. I saw this when it first came out right as I was about to graduate high school in 1970, and I loved it. I had not read John Barth's novel, so I had no prejudice about the approach. I have watched the film a couple of times since on video (though it is virtually impossible to find) and must testify it more than holds up. Stacey Keach really gives a great, subtly nuanced performance (perhaps the best of his career when he was still getting 'serious' roles) as the guy plagued by occasional catatonia, and James Earl Jones is also fantastic as a brilliant, maverick innovator of psychiatry (think Wilhelm Reich by way of Malcolm X) who, at the end, may be a bit too godlike for his own good. I personally think Terry Southern is a wonderful writer, and I love all of the films from his work from the more favorably acknowledged, like DR. STRANGELOVE and MAGIC Christian, to the less so (CANDY, which is probably my favorite). There are some crazy juxtapositions here as well as absurd humor (that would do the 1920s-30s surrealists proud), but the humor is not stupid by any means. Director Aram Avakian and Terry Southern were a good pairing. It's too bad that they never did another film together. I can only guess that this dark, dark comedy that is about America in the sixties and about human vulnerability, hubris and arrogance touched many raw nerves with not only some of the IMDb commentators, but the few people who saw it on its initial release. A totally uncompromising picture with the courage of it's twisted convictions. The intention of director, screenwriter and cast was to rattle complacent, uptight people's cages -and, judging from the invective here, I'd say they succeeded in spades. I will echo: whomever owns the rights to END OF THE ROAD, put it out on DVD - NOW!

I would like to refute many of the negative comments about this film. It is the closest, I believe, that an American film of the period came to emulating the look and sound of late 60s' Godard or Bergman's Persona. End of the Road would be be a perfect companion to a series of films that might include Performance, the aforementioned Bergman, Mickey One (which director Avakian edited), or William Friedkin's adaptation of The Birthday Party. I am a big fan of Barth's novel, but I feel this radical adaptation extends the original in a way that is equally groundbreaking. The novel was more about the fifties, while the film is shaped by the explosive events of 1968 - Tet, the Kennedy and King assassinations, student riots, the rise of Nixon/Agnew - which take the whole idea of the novel's "politics of the personal" to another level. A DVD restoration of this misunderstood landmark is well overdue.

The End of the Road, is probably Terry Southern's most personal work for the cinema. One over which he had most input and control. Southern's presence is felt throughout the film, from the use of his own East canaan home as a location, to Keach holding a pair of Terry's legendary 'Bono' fly style shades, to Terry's own cameo appearance as a patient.

The film is superbly acted by all concerned, Keach especially and the film is shot and edited as a subversive assault on the psyche and hypocrisy of America at the end of the sixties. Family life and alienation are to the fore, and a profound sadness for the end of the sixties.

The film often goes too far and screams too loudly its in gags and cleverness, but it is genuinely moving and totally unique. One can also say that the ill judged inclusion of the protracted and unwatchable abortion scene, killed any chances the film had of success. Which is a great shame, as this is a film which deserves a wider audience beyond its status as a cult oddity. The End of the Road is one hell of a unique ride if you can stay on board and a great insight into the mind of one of cinema's greatest screenwriters, Terry Southern.

Despite several what-must-have-been-at-the-time-neat editing tricks and sequences, inserted because the director was actually an editor and should have stuck to that, we have a film with the wrong person's personality stamped all over it. All you have to do is sit through five minutes of "The Magic Christian," if you can, and you'll see how Terry Southern applied his panacea of "Just add stupid" to Barth's beyond brilliant novel. I am only 30 minutes into the film and I don't think I can take anymore. The pathetic need to shock, impress and generally make people think he's so smart is evident if one picks up the book and reads along, seeing where Southern has stuck in obvious imagery, where he's put naked people, which masculine female nurse has been turned into a cross dressing psychotic gun wielding patient/nurse, where he's put people having sex with chickens and where he's put the American flag (a lot of places). It's even more embarrassing because he's raping the work of a fellow novelist, probably out of jealousy. Southern's idea of brilliance is to take a part that was serious in the book, James Earl Jones' Doctor, and have him dance around singing "Caledonia, Catatonia." In other words: moronic nonsense. The more the better. The scene where Southern has added masturbation to Jacob and Rennie's first telephone conversation is reminiscent of Gus Van Sant restoring it to Norman Bates in that celebrated "Psycho" remake. The scenes in the hospital are among the worst in cinema history and take up so much of the running time of the movie that Joe's character is cut out nearly entirely and what actually happens as a result of these brief encounters with lovers of chickens gets short shrift. Aside from this it is annoying to see that one of Harris Yulin's only what-could-have-been-supporting-lead-instead-of-character roles has been pared down, and that he's so miscast. Keach is somewhat miscast as well, he might have been better suited to playing Yulin's part the way it is written in the book, and he looks like a prototype for "Jedi" Mark Hamill with the scar. Strangely enough, this was Yulin's first movie and he did several more with Keach. The girl playing Rennie is actually somewhat appealing, but we never see much of her, she apparently writes schlock now so I guess this was good practice. James Earl Jones seems to be here because of this Southern connection (Strangelove), Southern has written most of his (terrible) dialogue and Jones really should have cleaned his toenails instead. But never mind that, never mind what is written in the book because Terry Southern is a writer too and he knows best. Now I have

to decide if I'm up to seeing how they lay waste to the rest of it. I did stick it out and thank the lord, the scenes outside the clinic are less stupendously mind-blowingly awful. The critic and erstwhile jerk John Simon said "the novel concludes with a harrowing abortion, whereas the film is an abortion from start to finish." Not quite as bad as Jan De Bont's "The Haunting" as lit adaptations go, but close. GO READ THE BOOK!

I saw this film when it was released and was totally mesmerized by the story and the performances. When I found it on video, (twenty years later) I immediately rented it and had a number of friends over to watch it. I couldn't believe how pompous and overdone the film was. My film recomendations to my friends have suffered ever since.