Dennis Hopper
Easy Rider

It's August 16, 2019, and a piece of news that one never wishes to receive tears through the monotonous daily grind: at the age of 79, American actor Peter Fonda passes away. When I heard it, it was not only a realization of the passage of time and the consequent fleeting nature of youth, but it was also an experience akin to the so-called "madeleine de Proust," recalling a precise sensation in a specific place experienced in the distant time of my tender youth. I was precisely 10 years old, and while in the seaside town of Cattolica in the summer of 1969 with my parents and their friends, I stayed in the lounge of a bar adjacent to a cinema arena (who knows if it still exists, I haven't been in those parts for decades now...). In that vast space bathed in a blinding summer light, my curious gaze landed on a large movie poster (as was the custom back then...) on a wall, and it left a mark on me. It depicted the image of Wyatt Captain America (the character played by Peter Fonda) observing a mountainous landscape in the American hinterland, and the poster bore the title "Easy Rider. Libertà e paura," with the additional phrase "A man went in vain in search of America." It was especially that "Libertà e paura" that stuck with me, and it's known that in youth, it can be the so-called secondary details (but then not really so, as will emerge) that ignite the imagination. Added to this was the general atmosphere of that historical period (at the end of the 60s) rich in artistic (and not only) energies that could not leave even those like me indifferent, who had not yet come of age.

The fact is that "Easy Rider" (which I managed to see for the first time years later, precisely in 1978) remains today the most representative film of that historical juncture spanning the 60s and 70s. Inspired, by director Dennis Hopper's own admission, by the plot of the film "Il sorpasso" made by Dino Risi in 1962, it is a typical low-budget road movie, filmed live with three leading actors (Dennis Hopper, Peter Fonda, and a Jack Nicholson in a state of grace playing a lawyer named George Hanson, from a good family but rebellious and inclined to down a few shots of whiskey) engaged in living adventurously on the roads of deep America. Released on July 14, 1969, it was such a success that it became the film of the year.

The plot is really simple. Wyatt (Peter Fonda) and Billy (Dennis Hopper) purchase a substantial amount of cocaine in Mexico, then resell it in the States. With the proceeds, after buying two flashy chopper motorcycles, they embark on a reverse coast-to-coast trip in the States (from California to New Orleans) to be able to attend the Mardi Gras celebrations. The film constitutes the account of this journey (to the notes of a memorable rock soundtrack), in which the two, along with the lawyer Hanson, not only encounter communities of hippies dedicated also to drug use and uninhibited living in the name of free love, but they will end up experiencing firsthand the hostility and aversion felt towards them by the regular citizens of the so-called silent majority (quick to use firearms).

The film frequently portrays omens of looming death over these modern picaros. Wyatt himself, to Billy, who confidently believes in their condition as carefree youth, counters, "We blew it" (perhaps he was aware in light of what the Marxist philosopher Herbert Marcuse asserted at that time, for whom "Flowers have no power," meaning the hippies would never succeed in overturning the capitalist system).

But even more significant is the dialogue between Hanson and Billy. While the latter thinks that those who distrust people like them are only motivated by fear, Hanson reiterates what is worth quoting in full:

"Yes, but they are not afraid of you, they are afraid of what you represent."

"Since when? To them, we're just people who need a haircut."

"Oh no. What you represent to them is freedom."

"What's wrong with freedom? Freedom is everything."

"Oh yes, it's true: freedom is everything, alright. But talking about freedom and being free are two different things. I mean, it's hard to be free when you're bought and sold in the marketplace. And mind you, never tell anyone they aren't free, because then they'll go to great lengths to kill you, massacre you to prove to you that they are. Oh sure, they keep talking and talking and talking about this famous freedom…"

Needless to say, for all those who have seen the film, how prophetic these words are in light of the tragic outcome of the journey of the three.

But given the acquired historical value of the film (surely a founding fact for an entire generation better known as the baby boomers), it's perhaps worth asking if today, in the full twenty-first century, there's still a message conveyed by the work in question that can attract those modern audiences who might look at the era of those events as if they were the famous Punic wars. If it's clear that the plot revolves around the yearning for freedom that is inherent to the human being (here expressed as a tendency not only to appear free but also to live free from mental and social restrictions), the mind cannot help but run to the current era, imbued with restrictions of greater force due to an unexpected health pandemic. But we must also be comforted by the thought that, given the cyclical progress of history, we might then find ourselves reclaiming anew the freedoms lost along the way, precisely for the irrepressible desire to emancipate from life conditions felt as intolerable. And precisely for this, watching "Easy Rider" from time to time doesn't hurt (and it's not just a matter of nostalgia for our best past years...)