Rebel Without A Cause
Still under the spell today of the love and death theme. Skyrockets and spectres. Hot cars over the cliff. Romeo and Juliet. Teen Angel, Tell Laura I Love Her and the other mawkish drivel that clogged the charts at the end of the Fifties.
I heard a voice that cried from the deep:
Come join your Baby in the Endless Sleep, Endless Sleep
(That one, if I remember rightly, about a girl who commits suicide by walking out into the ocean, was truly scarey)
It's rainy and grey on the Rhode Island coast today. My Patrushka is on the other side of the continent seeing her mom through surgery. The perfect day to do some research on love and death among the young of m-m-my generation. The perfect day to watch... Rebel Without A Cause!
I wonder if the video store has it? (The Pig calls Blockbuster) Hmm, their only copy is booked solid because some students have to do a term paper on it. Ahh, my little Rebel, are you reduced to this? Fodder for high school AP English classes? To be analyzed and dissected on the chloroform table by chloroform kids listening to The Bloggers on their ipods? At least you haven't joined High School Confidential in the endless sleep of forgotten teenager flicks.
OK, I don't need a stupid videotape! This is the Pondering Pig here! I will gesture hypnotically, look into the mystic reaches of my alternate universe and...there it is...just a few light years away...
Rebel Without A Cause. The best movie ever made. The first and maybe the only movie that told the truth about the adult world. The first movie that took me and my brother seriously. James Dean, the best actor of all time and Sal Mineo, the saddest sidekick of all time, and Jim Backus, the most screwed up father of all time and, bless her, we lost her to the chilly deep, the endless sleep - sixteen year old Natalie Wood.
I seem to be given to hyperbole today and these stupid tears get my trotters wet while I type and I have no idea why, except my mystic memory brings back the feelings as well as the sights of that time.
Oh no, oh no, oh no no no no no!
The Shangri-las
One rainy winter night in 1955, I was 13, my brother Noel 16, three years left till he rounded Dead Man's Curve, we drove though those rainy suburban streets to the teen-packed Burlingame Theater to see the gospel preached to us all in full-bore Cinemascope, a sight never to equalled again. From the opening scene...Jimmy falling on the sidewalk in his red windbreaker drunk, in close-up 100 feet tall it seemed, fitting, epic, laughing at the little toy monkey he found - alone, was he laughing or was he crying? We didn't know it but we were about to be shown the world-shaking truth. I don't use the word gospel lightly. Except it wasn't good news. Just the truth.
Here it is: Beneath that self-satisfied, prosperous, Rotary Club and martinis adult world we just drove through, inside those little suburban houses just like ours, something is terribly wrong. The adult world is neither happy nor content. Nothing is what it seems to be. And only the teenagers can see it and feel it. Yet they're powerless, caught in their own ritual webs of tribal violence. Only love can save them. Only love can save us.
If it's not too late.
In the key scene, Jim Stark (James Dean's character) and Buzz, enemies, rivals in every way, are going to prove nothing to no one by racing stolen cars off a cliff into the ocean below. The first one to jump before the cars go over is a chicken.
In the most tragic scene ever filmed, Buzz and Jim are talking by the cars before they start and realize that, in another world, another time, another reality, they would be friends. Jim says to Buzz, "Why do we do this?"
Buzz answers, "Well, you gotta do something now...don't you?"
As the years went on, when I tried to make sense out of my confused young life, the scene replayed in my head again and again.
You probably remember rest, if you're old enough. Hard to forget. The race. Jim jumping first. Buzz's leather jacket wrist strap stuck in the door handle. Crashing to his death in the breakers breaking brokenly forever on the rocks below.
We drove around for a while after though the empty wet streets in speechless stunned silence. I thought about all the kids in that theater and what we had been through together and what was this world I was growing into?
I didn't want to join my baby in the endless sleep. I wanted love to win. I wanted something...I wanted SOMETHING.
In a world gone crazy
Everything seems hazy
I'm a wild one
Ooh yeah I'm a wild one
Little Ivan (1958)
Labels: A Fifties Teenager, James Dean, Rebel Without A Cause
posted by Christopher Newton at 6:43 AM
9 Comments:
Editor's Note: I just changed the name of this post from "You Won't Come Back From Dead Man's Curve..." with its scarey ominous warning to the more boring "Rebel Without A Cause". The first name is just too close to Monday's and I know it would cause confusion.
Ha. Confusion. I occasionally live for confusion. Not because I wanna screw people up, but because I feel this undying urge to rattle their cages, not unlike Señor Spoke. But what I like best is staying ambiguous and maybe bringing out some subconscious thought-ort that has much need to surface.
We live in pallid times, not much removed from Bro. Dean and Bro. Sal. Dean and Sal. Dean and Sal?
Now I have to ask, do you think Kerouac saw the juxtaposition of names like that? Maybe James Dean and Sal Mineo took their names from our heroes in "On The Road"?
What a thought. A new revelation? Maybe not, but I never heard it before.
Anyways, when I saw "Rebel" for the first time in like 1970, I was entranced by Natalie. Puberty will do that. Still does. I showed a pic of her to my 14 year old and Nathan said, "She's a hottie".
I wish we had phrases like that 35 years ago. But I digress.
"Rebel" was as much a reflection in 1970 as it was in the '50's, as it is in this millennium. The American century is over, but some constants remain.
My son Jake, that I alluded to in a previous post, has gone through 3 cars since last September. None of them were serious demolitions (besides money)and all I can figure is that he's blessed with a NASCAR angel that keeps him from harm on a consistent basis. Those were the same angels that protected Jim Stark and protected the Pondering Pig in his youth (and me too, truth be told).
I can't see anything but confirmation in those kinda situations. We run like demon posessed madmen when we're young. Some succumb to the madness and some are saved. No coincidences. Theology rejects it and so does Einstein.
Nobody is dicing with the universe. When we survive where others have exploded and burned it's not by accident. Logic and reason require the response that even a nebulous "SOMETHING" keeps us from harm.
I guess when we were young men (women do it too, but far less frequently, it seems) we tilted with the windmills, like Quixote. We had to and still have to sometimes. It's not a death wish. No, It's more like a survival wish. We don't want to flash like "...fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!"
No, we just wanna get by and succeed on our own terms; maybe impress a couple of girls along the way.
Oops. I got carried away.
Mea culpa.
I was always recognized as a "Rebel Without a Clue".
Why is that? I played the game and I still survive. I'm pissed because people don't recognize the fact that some folks survive the 50's and the 60's and 70's and 80's and 90's and every thing that 2000 throws out.
Why Leo do you like confusion? I read what you say and I get crazy. Pondering Pig gets me angry too but you make me angry. I dont know why but you do.
I was off trotting about Newport RI yesterday looking for the jazz festival, but no luck. Came back to find your notes this morning.
First, Leo, that's a striking "coincidence" you stumbled upon.
For you guys who aren't familiar with the book, author Jack Kerouac recreates himself as "Sal Paradise" and real-life Neal Cassidy is renamed "Dean Moriarity".
So is there a relationship? The manuscript of On The Road has been on tour across the country (was recently at the San Francisco Public Library) - it would be fascinating to see what Jack names the characters in the original draft. Are they Jack and Neal?
IMDB says Rebel Without A Cause premiered October 27, 1955. Jack wrote On The Road in 1951 but it wasn't published until September 5, 1957 (found this on the net, can only assume it's accurate) a good two years later. So it is very possible that when Jack was searching around for publishable names for his characters, he chose Sal and Dean as a little in-joke known only to himself.
I think you should go in for lit crit, Leo. You're good. Do an article for a prominent journal. Blow the lid off fuddy-duddy Keroacean scholarship.
Second, Mr. Anonymous, thanks for being honest! That's what we crave around here. Say what you mean, and you did. I think Leo was actually unambiguous about why he deals in ambiguity, and I can dig it. But we're all made different. (Man, the Pig is profound today!)
Hey - I'm a survivor too! Made it all the way to 2006. Now I'm just trying to get this long strange trip down on paper. Trying to tell what really happened and how it really felt. Because I'm a melancholiac, I often see the sorrow of life first. That's just how it is, Anonymous Dude. Hey, survivors are often scarred up.
Thanks for sticking around and reading, even if you get angry sometimes.
Leonard- Your quote of "...fabulous yellow roman candles..." is very familiar, but I can't quite place it. Where is it from?
Hannah-
"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!"
-Jack Kerouac (On The Road)
Bro. Anonymous, I'm sorry you get crazy at me and angry at Mr. Pig. I make no excuses. Many moons ago I started taking things in a more random way, maybe to make sense out of nothingness. You know... order in the chaos. Stream of consciousness to the proportion of a raging river.
It's like Neal or 'Trane or Miles playing or saying a line over and over in different ways every time and, occasionally, hittin' the note. You know the one. The one that's unrepeatable, that no one else can duplicate, that defies perfect pitch but is intrinsically perfect.
I guess the lesson I hear from the Pondering Pig and from the beats is the notion of the project. Not to just make a project but to be the project, corporately or individually.
We Americans usually order things in a way that describes what we HAVE, in terms of things and talents. Maybe what we oughta be doing is perceive ourselves through what we DO with those things and talents.
But then, maybe, we need to re-define ourselves altogether. Maybe we need to start recognizing ourselves as humans being rather than humans doing.
Hope I didn't make you too crazy this time.
What was in Newport? By the way, I see where "Dunkin' Donuts" sponsors Newport Folk now. I guess. Folk, coffee houses, donuts. It's a stretch. I guess, in my mind, a promotion like "Dunkin' Donuts Presents Mississippi John Hurt" doesn't quite do it.
With so many things to reflect on in this life - past and present, good and not so good, desirable or undesirable - the following biblical verse is still a jewel, in my opinion, regarding what our ongoing attitude while pondering can be. I've found it helpful. But, I might note, I haven't seen a movie in over 30 years, maybe more, and I don't have television, so, as a side benefit, I don't have the reruns playing in my thoughts when I close my eyes at night.
"Have no anxiety about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will keep your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things" (Philippians 4:6-8).
It takes some initial discipline to get one's mind to, say, settle down to staying within the framework. But the resulting peace of mind is well worth the - sometimes ongoing - effort:
I notice there has been a name change in the Pigsty. Is Old Walrus still in the pigpen? I recall once you said, "I'm not a pig, I'm a walrus!" Either way, I look forward to reading the Pondering Pig's insights, and the various comments.
Good stuff, Gary. I'm glad somebody is around here to give advice. (I don't mean that in a snotty way - I just don't do advice or make suggestions about how other people should live unless they ask - and they almost never do.)
By the way, I notice Paul doesn't actually mention "peace of mind" as people normally think of it, like "Finally, everything's taken care of. Now I can go to the party and not worry about a thing" (if you're an extrovert) or "This is going to be a great day - I'm just gonna go down to my woodshop and make stuff" (if you're an introvert).
What Paul actually says is "the peace of God...will keep your...minds in Christ Jesus."
Paul was saying that's the place to be, the place to pray for. That state of consciouness must be what people call Christ Consciouness. Wow! Sounds great, but kind of scarey too - like, could I still be the Pondering Pig? Or would I have to be saintly and go around thinking holy thoughts?
When advertisements talk about peace of mind, they show silver-haired prosperous couples having a great time working in the garden because they 1. eat fiber, 2. have plenty life insurance, - so they feel secure and now all they have to do is clip the roses and smile at each other.
They're hoping you'll buy more life insurance because they know you don't really feel secure at all and you wish you did. So you could be wearing expensive gardening clothes too, I guess.
I don't thnk I'll know till I get to heaven what Paul really meant about the mind of Christ. I am a simple kind of pig, but I do know that security in life comes from that solid feeling that 1. there really is a God. 2. He is for you, not against you. 3. I am for God, not against him. There is a relationship between us that makes the world click into focus.
I don't think I have to go around thinking saintly thoughts at all. Better to be out fignting for justice. Or, in my case right now, trying to see the world I came through with some clarity, and writing it down.
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