"Head" (1968, Bob Rafelson) If there was a literal cinematic dictionary, (and it was the first dictionary to ever have pictures, and thus, to finally make the saying actually work as an idiom), under the entry for "trying to hard", there would be a picture from Bob Rafelson's "Head".
In an apparent response to waning popularity and coolness, and the burgeoning American independent movement, famous television-formed singing group the Monkees decided, instead of making a piece of fluff that would please their loyal fan base, they instead decided to go in the complete opposite direction, and made a piece of fluff that satisfied...pretty much no one.
As a film reviewer, I have cultivated a notorious pass/fail opinion of surrealist films, because for me, they're either a complete bullseye or a pathetic miss. If you succeed, it's a wondrous, hilarious, terrifying, amazing experience that supersedes most anything else in film. If you fail, it just becomes painful because it's not fun and it makes no sense. Surrealism and absurdism, as styles, are not difficult to do. Anyone can think up some random images, jokes and bullsh-t, film them, and call it surrealism. The trick is in doing it well, either making it mean something, or making it enjoyable enough to be able to ignore the lack of meaning. The Monkees, and thus, "Head", fail in this. It's merely a string of nonsense, and it's frequently painful to watch them flail about so desperately.
The other thing that sinks the film are the Monkees themselves. They're not great actors, they're not great comedians, and they're certainly not great musicians, so the fact that the entire movie is the Monkees doing those three things, it's just no good. They all sort of look like they could be funny, but Davy Jones is the only one that has even an ounce of charisma, and he's relegated to lame physical humor, puns and compared with its main inspiration, "A Hard Day's Night", sub-Ringo blasé. As for the rest of them, you can tell Micky Dolenz REALLY *thinks* he's funny, which makes it more painful when he's not. The other two both have sort of vague penis-shaped haircuts, and I think one of them had sideburns, but that was the only thing that distinguished them.
The film has absolutely zero structure, and seems like it's both passing quickly and taking forever. It's akin to taking a nap and having a dream on a car trip: You have no sense of time or distance, it makes no sense and you can't even remember it to tell anybody about it. All in all, "Head" is like watching a documentary about great movies instead of actually watching a great movie; this movie just made me want to round up a bunch of friends and make my own silly nonsense flick, but unlike Bob Rafelson & the Monkees, I know that my movie would be of no interest to anyone not in on the joke, something of which the Monkees could take note, as they needed to make this, and then Jerry-Lewis it into their own personal vaults.
{Grade: 4/10 (C-) / #24 (of 28) of 1968}
In an apparent response to waning popularity and coolness, and the burgeoning American independent movement, famous television-formed singing group the Monkees decided, instead of making a piece of fluff that would please their loyal fan base, they instead decided to go in the complete opposite direction, and made a piece of fluff that satisfied...pretty much no one.
As a film reviewer, I have cultivated a notorious pass/fail opinion of surrealist films, because for me, they're either a complete bullseye or a pathetic miss. If you succeed, it's a wondrous, hilarious, terrifying, amazing experience that supersedes most anything else in film. If you fail, it just becomes painful because it's not fun and it makes no sense. Surrealism and absurdism, as styles, are not difficult to do. Anyone can think up some random images, jokes and bullsh-t, film them, and call it surrealism. The trick is in doing it well, either making it mean something, or making it enjoyable enough to be able to ignore the lack of meaning. The Monkees, and thus, "Head", fail in this. It's merely a string of nonsense, and it's frequently painful to watch them flail about so desperately.
The other thing that sinks the film are the Monkees themselves. They're not great actors, they're not great comedians, and they're certainly not great musicians, so the fact that the entire movie is the Monkees doing those three things, it's just no good. They all sort of look like they could be funny, but Davy Jones is the only one that has even an ounce of charisma, and he's relegated to lame physical humor, puns and compared with its main inspiration, "A Hard Day's Night", sub-Ringo blasé. As for the rest of them, you can tell Micky Dolenz REALLY *thinks* he's funny, which makes it more painful when he's not. The other two both have sort of vague penis-shaped haircuts, and I think one of them had sideburns, but that was the only thing that distinguished them.
The film has absolutely zero structure, and seems like it's both passing quickly and taking forever. It's akin to taking a nap and having a dream on a car trip: You have no sense of time or distance, it makes no sense and you can't even remember it to tell anybody about it. All in all, "Head" is like watching a documentary about great movies instead of actually watching a great movie; this movie just made me want to round up a bunch of friends and make my own silly nonsense flick, but unlike Bob Rafelson & the Monkees, I know that my movie would be of no interest to anyone not in on the joke, something of which the Monkees could take note, as they needed to make this, and then Jerry-Lewis it into their own personal vaults.
{Grade: 4/10 (C-) / #24 (of 28) of 1968}