VIEWING DATE: November 26, 2023
#77 - AMERICAN GRAFFITI (1973)
D: George Lucas
S: Richard Dreyfuss, Ron Howard, Cindy Williams, Charles Martin Smith, Candy Clark, Paul Le Mat, Mackenzie Phillips, Harrison Ford, Suzanne Somers
It's easy to take as a Blackboard Jungle remake, given how Rock Around the Clock plays through the opening credits. On the contrary, it's anything but – even though they did share the tactic of passing off adults as teenagers. But truth be told, that facade of Mel's Diner should already drop the hint. The two youth-oriented films are vastly different. For starters, this one features graduates.
It's not what that comes to mind when you think of George Lucas, even if it was Lucasfilm's maiden project. How can it be, given the time and energy he spent conjuring that "galaxy far, far away"? And no, it's not synonymous with Francis Ford Coppola either. Nobody here gets whacked – not on purpose, at least. Yet, lo and behold, it nestles comfortably between The Godfathers I and II in his overall filmography.
American Graffiti may be far from being their pivotal work. But that doesn't take away from its colossal impact. In fact, 50 years since its initial release, it's still the seminal coming-of-age tale, set in the cultural revolution of the 1960s. All it took was nostalgia, cars, and a whole lot of rock 'n roll. The tagline pretty much summed it up: Where were you in '62?
It began over development of THX 1138, Lucas' mainstream debut, which is itself a rework of his own student film. It was as ambitious as a breakthrough piece could get, as it was set in the distant future and centered on androids and drugs. Being Lucas' closest collaborator then, Coppola coaxed his colleague to make a more commercially palatable piece. Presumably, it's because he anticipated the dystopian film would bewilder casual viewers. Well, he wasn't wrong. THX 1138 was released to mixed reviews and underwhelming box office figures.
On the bright side, another concept was simultaneously in the works, one inspired by Lucas' his teen years in Modesto, California. The story revolved around a group of fresh high school graduates spending the last night of summer vacation before moving on to their next chapters.
Yet, despite having a much more relatable plot, the concept went through several rejections and botched pitches. It wasn't until Lucas co-wrote the second draft with Gloria Katz and Willard Hyuck when it finally earned favor from Universal Pictures. Finally, the concept was greenlit and Lucas was granted full creative control. It was a great start for his new outfit, Lucasfilm. Except, there was one condition. He had to work within a shoestring budget. Luckily, with Coppola at the helm as producer, more funds were secured. It didn't hurt that The Godfather was still in everyone's collective consciousness – not that it ever even left.
Casting was the next crucial step. The characters needed to fit certain archetypes, from cheerleaders to dorks, do-gooders to hopeless romantics. For that, Coppola tapped Fred Roos, the man responsible for giving faces to the Corleones. Superstars were out of the question. They needed fresh faces who'd make lasting impact. So, after a huge casting call that attracted droves of promising unknowns, they rounded up quite the roster.
First on board was Richard Dreyfuss, whose first gig was a blink-or-miss bit part in 1967's The Graduate. It was his thorough grasp of his character, the reluctant scholar Curt Henderson, which helped him land a role with ease. It was either Curt or Terry "Toad" Fields, the bumbling nerd inspired by Lucas himself. That part eventually went to Charles Martin Smith, while Candy Clark played the rebellious Debbie, the girl Toad tries to impress throughout. Clark was also the film's lone Oscar acting nominee. And back to Dreyfuss, he enjoyed a tremendous follow through after this breakthrough stint. He scored leads in two Spielberg blockbusters (Jaws and Close Encounters of the Third Kind) and won an acting Oscar (The Goodbye Girl) all within the next five years.
Eventual director Ron Howard played Steve Bolander, the do-gooder seeking a more open relationship with his girlfriend (and Curt's sister), Laurie Henderson. That part went to the late Cindy Williams, who'd later make waves in TV sitcoms Happy Days and Laverne and Shirley.
Completing the line-up were Paul Le Mat as cocky hot-rodder John Milner and Mackenzie Phillips as Carol, John's precocious 12-year-old "hitchhiker". Taking on a villainous role was none other than Harrison Ford, who played John's adversary, Bob Falfa. There's a reason he catapulted to stardom thereafter. As everyone knows, he traded that Chevy for the Millennium Falcon four years later.
A colorful cast needed colorful stories, and the film isn't short of a mosaic. No central character is left relegated, and no plot point feels underplayed. Each time story arcs intertwine, it feels seamless. It is, indeed, a master class on vignette storytelling – all set to the chartbusters of that era from "The Great Pretender" to "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes", with incidental "commentary" from iconic disc jockey Wolfman Jack, who makes a cameo.
It takes genius to make a collection feel singular - much more, impactful. At the core of this rambunctious hodgepodge is one unifying theme. And, really, this is why we have coming-of-age stories. It's always about letting go of the familiar and fearing what's ahead. More than the music and automotive jargon, the film draws its strength from the teens' uncertainties. Laurie sums it up before the final act:
"It doesn't make sense to leave home to look for home, to give up a life to find a new life, to say goodbye to friends you love just to find new friends."
That's when the movie hits home, and it happens even before the climactic drag race. We're reminded that, sometimes, asking the right questions is better than finding answers. It's not about achieving contentment at the turning point, but about yearning for growth. We're not put in this world to be spoon-fed, but rather, to fend for ourselves.
No resolution is overtly reached at the end. Because, technically, it's not even witnessing an end, but a beginning. Notwithstanding the uttered goodbyes, we're seeing the first day of the rest of their lives. With nothing set in stone, the only recourse is surrender.
As a character stares blankly at the sky before the end credits, we're shown postscripts, each summarizing the lead characters' subsequent fates. At that point, it's emphasized that, though the story happened in the past, it's narrated at the present. More importantly, we're reminded that once we leave a shared experience, destiny can lead us anywhere it pleases.
Not everyone in the story winds up lucky. And presumably, even the lucky ones faced subsequent off-screen struggles. Therein lies the beauty of this classic. Throughout those 112 minutes, we grow to love those characters. So much so, that we continue to wonder how they fared beyond those end credit postscripts, or even beyond that ill-conceived 1979 sequel.
It's like that fictional brat pack truly existed. Then again, they somewhat did. And still do. We're Curts when we cling to our comfort zones at the cusp of opportunity; Steves and Lauries, when our relationships plateau; Toads, when we feel the impulse to appeal to a certain status; and John Milners, whenever we shed our egos to become nurturers.
That's when you know a film is timeless. In American Graffiti's case, it doesn't end with inspiring the likes of 1993's Dazed and Confused and 1998's underrated Can't Hardly Wait. Yes, it's a 50-year-old movie depicting events from 11 years prior, but it still feels like watching it today. More than being remembered five decades later, it's a film that stays inside the viewer's consciousness. And breeds.
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