Review of More

More (1969)
7/10
on the failure of the hippies... featuring Pink Floyd!
5 March 2009
I would be interested to hear from the director, Barbet Schroeder, as to why he decided to make More his first film, and more specifically what his interest in hippies- or rather this form of the Euro-hippie paradise- and about their demise. The film is, at least, true enough to keep one interested, but in its own kind of truth it's strange, biased. It's a given heroin (aka, "Horse") is awful stuff, rotten, the conclusion for many a dumb-headed drug user that sees that as the be-all-end-all, because it basically is: after that everything else stops, that becomes the life, and it's either a continuous run for more of the same or death. More starts off as something concerning a romance between a New York girl and a German man, but it becomes something else, for better or worse (sometimes both in the same scene).

It's basically about two "young" people, Estelle and Stefan, who meet in a city where Stefan has come as a sort of wanderer away from his home country. She's wandering too, sort of, and is maybe too friendly with a big-time pusher named Wolf. They end up on a remote island somewhere nearby and, after a somewhat daring grab for some "horse" by Estelle, they also find a pad in the form of a seemingly remoter house along the seashore. Schroeder's comment on youth and sex and drugs isn't too simplistic, which makes the film actually lucid and intelligent so many years later. It's both direct and subtle, more about the characters and then about the fact that what he's depicting could in other hands just be a propagandistic hippie-exploitation picture. Perhaps most pleasantly, and this is just a guess, Schroeder uses as inspiration the sort of long sequence from Bergman's Summer with Monika: two kids in an inexorable connection, some good some definitely not so good, set against (too?) perfectly shot landscapes.

On the one hand, I should mention that there are problems, some big ones in fact. The performances aren't very convincing throughout; a few scenes strike some power or have the actors in a good connection with one another, but Klaus Grumberg overplays himself even if he is an ornery German by nature (in that case I would've preferred Klaus Kinski in the part to make it crazier but deep enough for the subject matter) as does Farmer to her own degree. And there's gaps of naiveté in the screenplay that keep it from being as deep as it really thinks it is. On the other hand, there are two big things going for it: Nestor Almendros, the great cinematographer (i.e. Days of Heaven) is DP and is a big boost for a first time director like Schroeder. Nearly every image is seen with an awesome purpose or artistry, be it a shot of the cliffs by the sea or sun or something as simple as the seemingly natural light of a room.

The other thing is Pink Floyd, probably the main reason I and many others have heard of the film in the first place (years before I knew really who Schroeder was I saw the "More" soundtrack whenever I looked up Pink Floyd albums). It's very good music throughout, occasionally the mind-blowing variety that gives them the reputation they deserve. Some of it, too, is a little tedious, even as it is a movie that concerns free love and lots of drugs and sometimes both at the same time. I wouldn't rank it anywhere near as high as a Meddle or Animals, certainly not Dark Side, but it too helps to elevate the subject matter another notch, particularly when one least expects it or in low tones or floating in and out of buildings as Stefan or other walks on the streets. It's almost better atmosphere than the movie itself deserves, but overall More is still worth watching as a period piece- dated, but potent, like a less ambitious but more substantial Zabriskie Point.
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