THEY SHOOT HORSES, DON'T THEY?. Taking place during the same year as The Damned (1933). They Shoot Horses also uses its more or less single setting (a depression dance marathon) as a microcosm for a whole society.
The unrelenting emotional violence of the dark America the film shows is staggering in impact. In fact, the whole thing is so claustrophobically seedy that one cannot help but hate and love the film at the same time. An unfortunate ending and about five minutes of execrable dialogue about the point-of-it-all mar the work-but the rest of the movie makes it easy to forgive the mistakes. The director is Sydney Pollack. Jane Fonda, hard as nails, and Gig Young, con man par excellence, give devastating performances.
LION'S LOVE. Director Agnes Varda has some fun with this overlong, weird comedy. There is no plot and a lot of talk as Viva (superstar). James Rado and Gerome Ragni (co-authors of Hair ), and Shirley Clarke (underground filmmaker) gather in a Beverly Hills hacienda the weekend Robert Kennedy was shot.
Yet despite the self-indulgence of about half the film, Lion's Love is remarkable for several things: its depiction of Southern California's plastic sunniness; it's screamingly hilarious treatment of political assassination (sick, you say?); its exploitation of the considerable assets of Viva, who is a freaky latter-day Jean Arthur; and its endearing. cozy ambiance throughout.
Why one film should be included over another in a list such as this is a highly personal matter. For that reason, I'd like to list a few more admirable films released in 1969, which, on another day, might just have easily appeared among the "Ten Best."
The Wild Bunch and Tell Them Willie Boy is Here. Two American westerns, one a graphic epic on violence by a young director (Sam Peckinpaugh), the other a psychological exploration of racial genocide by an old and, for twenty years, blacklisted filmmaker (Abraham Polonsky). Lucien Ballard's color photography in the former and Robert Redford's performance in the latter are added treats.
Skidoo. Otto Preminger's idiosyncratic (naive, if you like) comedy about American youth. A mammoth ugly crime syndicate is used to symbolize the establishment; LSD and a draft-card burner save the day. All Preminger and all crazy.
Salesman. The Maysles brothers' pseudo-documentary about door-to-door Bible salesmen on the job. It doesn't all hold together, but the technique is quite something and the real-life characters unbearably sad.
Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice. A Hollywood comedy about Esalen-inspired liberation in California. The philosophical outlook is solidly middle-class, but the script (by Paul Mazursky and Larry Tucker) and the performances of Elliot Gould and Dyan Cannon are witty and sometimes surprisingly perceptive.
Take the Money and Run. Woody Allen co-wrote and directed this flimsy vehicle, which somehow manages, despite all its lulls, to have more laughs than any other movie this year.
That's it, folks. Send in the old hate mail if I failed to include that one film which made your 1969 worthwhile.