By Marilyn Ferdinand
One thing I’ve learned from a lifetime of moviegoing is that every story is unique, and at the same time, universal. Despite the wide variety of life on earth, in essence, there simply aren’t that many ways to be human, and that is why we can look at life in India, Japan, Argentina, France, anywhere, and find things to which we relate. This is especially true of reminiscences of childhood, be they Richard Linklater’s fictionalized version of his Texas upbringing in Boyhood (2014), Steve Tesich’s kaleidoscopic look at coming of age in America through his immigrant eyes in Four Friends (1981), or Jean Shepherd’s affectionate look at his life in 1940s Indiana in A Christmas Story (1983). All children are subject to the authority of those more powerful than they are, and they all have to learn how to become those people as they stretch toward adulthood and, eventually, life on their own terms.
American Graffiti is a highly particular look at teens on the cusp of independence in the California car culture of director/screenwriter George Lucas’ adolescence. The hot rods, drive-ins, and cruising strip are rendered with such loving detail in the glow of a pleasant California night that Lucas’ adolescence has become iconic of everyone’s youth, a supposedly more innocent time that tends to meld all of our teen years into “the best years of our lives.” But Lucas provides more than a gauzy look back for retirees and those nostalgic for a time they were too young to experience. He presents an array of types—the cool greaser, the slut, the nerd, the straight arrow, the smart observer, the street gang—and through his astute casting and smart script and direction, turns them into real people who show exactly how the endless summer of youth really feels for those living it.
Lucas’ now-famous cast were largely unknown at the time the film was made. Ron Howard, of course, was well known as Opie, the adorable son of Andy Griffith on his popular TV show. It was absolutely fitting that audiences got a chance to see Opie enter adulthood as the conventional teen Steve, preparing to go to college with his friend Curt (Richard Dreyfuss) but feeling the pull of his long-time steady Laurie (Cindy Williams), who wonders why he has to “leave home to find home.” Dreyfuss has just the right look of goofy intensity to seem like the kid who is going places, and ordinary-looking Williams looks born to wear sensible pumps and join the PTA. Steve’s friend Terry (Charles Martin Smith) is just plain goofy, but dying to be cool. When dishy Debbie (Candy Clark) hops in the car Terry has pried out of Steve for a last chance at cruising the strip, Terry can’t believe his luck. Finally, John Milner (Paul Le Mat), the coolest guy with the fastest, bossest car in town, wears his authority lightly; with a strong body, slick DA, and regulation blue jeans and white t-shirt with cigarette pack rolled into a sleeve, he doesn’t have to boast; he is the idol every teen worshipped.
The teens in this ecosystem move freely, without adult interference to interrupt the flow of their nightly rituals. The touchstones of their tribe—the drive-in, the strip, the drag strip on the edge of town—are the places where they come together, split apart, and share in the joys and terrors of their circumscribed existence. Into this world enter four players from outside their sphere: Carol (Mackenzie Phillips), a preteen who gloms on to Milner and threatens his cool; Bob Falfa (Harrison Ford), a challenger set to topple Milner as hot rod king; the teasing blonde in the white T-bird (Suzanne Somers) who mouths “I love you” to Curt, causing him to chase her through the night, the blazing-white vision of all he hopes to attain; and legendary DJ Wolfman Jack himself, the chorus for the rituals of youth whose narrative of rock ’n roll (“Why Do Fools Fall in Love,” “She’s So Fine,” “Almost Grown,” “Rock Around the Clock”) forms both an explanation and instruction book for coming of age.
The night is a time for mischief, and many of the teens look forward to getting up to something. Curt is reluctantly dragged into the rip-offs and wanton destruction perpetrated by the Pharaohs, who boost the change from pinball machines and give Curt the outlaw thrill of his life—a chance to become a Pharaoh by rigging the rear axle of a squad car to come off as the gang taunts the cops to give chase. Curt finds what he’s made of in this relatively harmless ritual, his uncertainty about college and his future resolved by morning. By contrast, both Milner and Steve are brought up short by powers too strong for them—a too-fast car and a too-slow girlfriend. They fail to make the passage to adulthood as their truest selves by doubting themselves and allowing others to make decisions for them, revealing their identities were little more than a veneer.
Terry, seemingly the least secure of the group, tries to puff himself up with lies about owning the car he is driving and also having a jeep. Debbie takes Terry at his word and by being herself—trusting, happy as a sexual creature who is eager to make out with the inexperienced Terry—assesses an evening in which the car is stolen and Terry gets drunk and pukes endlessly as a “bitching time.” Terry’s future, told in the final “where are they now” title cards at the end of the film, isn’t a happy one, swallowed in another situation where he was in over his head.
When the sun comes up, this particular group of teens moves into the future, to be replaced by another cohort of youths ready to go through the timeless rites of passage, changing with each new generation, but serving the same inevitable purpose.
The hot rods, drive-ins, and cruising strip are rendered with such loving detail in the glow of a pleasant California night that Lucas’ adolescence has become iconic of everyone’s youth, a supposedly more innocent time that tends to meld all of our teen years into “the best years of our lives.”
This aspect of the film of course is the one best remembered by both the casual fans, nostalgia buffs, and those who not only salute the past but in vicarious ways live it in the present. “The best years of our lives” contention bears more than a dose of verisimilitude, as it is a time long considered to be the domain of the youth and those times that are never appreciated when that happened, but rather when they are long gone. The same is applied for the school years. You do of course go on to examine why the film beyond that is an even more profound proposition. Marilyn, your decision to devote this fabulous essay towards this theme, with its fleeting implications is more than a sound one – it gets right down to the essence of what is rightly considered an American classic, and for this commentator the most resonant film of Lucas’ career.
Thanks, Sam, and I agree. This is Lucas’ most resonant and, dare I say, best film. Perfect pacing, casting, dialogue and shooting all the way around.
I always found this a bittersweet film, as it not only examines discovery but for these pre-turbulent 60’s teens, the definition of illusion vs. reality. Many could only dream of growing up during these exhilarating times. Everything that comes afterwards is a letdown. Terrific review!
Frank, thanks, and I agree. There is a lot of posing and illusion to being a teenager, which I tried to bring out in the review. When reality hits, it can often hit hard and lead to a lifetime of disappointment.
When I think of this film, certain images go through my mind: a jukebox playing infectious 45s, girls bringing food out from hamburger joints to parked cars (something that would be impossible today) and the resident cool cat played by Paul Le Mat. I know many films were influenced by American Graffiti, yet it remains better than any of them. The sounds, the lights, the excitement, kids ruling the world are running rampant. Beautiful expression of theme in this review.
Thanks, Peter. In fact, the TV series “Happy Days” was a direct outgrowth of this film, though Fonzie always wore a leather jacket and Milner didn’t. It is a wonderfully episodic film that somehow holds together beautifully. I love it very much.
Peter, I’m not sure which of those images you believe “would be impossible today,” but I can assure you, there are still hambuger joints where food is brought to your parked car. I worked at drive-in restaurant in my hometown during my high school years – just last weekend, I enjoyed a burger and fries there, brought to my car. And it’s not the only such establishment still in business.
An insightful and affectionate consideration of this most singular film. American Graffiti takes a look at a particular slice of Americana and just gets it right. I lived through very similar rites of passage growing up in the west during the mid-sixties. Only slightly romanticized, this is easily Lucas’ best work.
Thanks, Duane. It’s hard to have anything but affection for the film, as it is clearly a very personal and meaningful film for Lucas. I wish he’d make more films like this one.
The film is wholly irresistible, with characters, events and places that are vividly envisioned. One is left with a certain sense of longing, especially those of us who have lived through that time.
Celeste, it is so particular to its time, with each character given the attention he or she deserves. It’s a wonder of a film.
Marilyn –
This is a lovely tribute to a film for which you obviously have deep affection. I felt I re-lived it through your review.
Thanks, Pat. You’re right, I really love this movie.
It’s a great film Marilyn and one of the best to examine adolescence/young adulthood. This is probably one of those films (along with Rebel Without a Cause for instance) that skews more toward the adult side of this particular genre, but if we’re going to include any films on this list that are borderline as far as the age limit, then this one should definitely be included. This film is terrific fun and is always great no matter how many times I watch it!
Couldn’t agree more, Jon. Although most of the teens in this are graduating high school, it’s clear they’ve been behaving like this for some time, so I think it works as an examination of adolescence.
Loved this film as a kid (especially the Candy Clark and Woofman Jack vignettes) – but tried to watch it a few weeks back when it just happened to be on cable – and while the music was still a “bitching good time” – there was something underlying that seemed sexist and outdated about all the shenanigans (as in I’m finding it harder and harder to relate to the social mores of this time period in American history). I might be way off base and might just have been in a bad mood.
As time passes I recall more fondly Linklater’s Dazed and Confused – but I’m willing to contend the level of love for both of these wildly enjoyable and similar films is purely generational.
My mixed feelings aside – marvelous essay.
And yes – this is Lucas’ best film – by far…and shows such “vision” when you read why he named the film American Graffiti – because he wanted it to be like an archaeological find – a time capsule of America at the time – like Roman graffiti on a ruin depicting sex and drinking or something…I just love that whole idea and the film is indeed a time capsule.
David, you have added some great information with this comment. I never know about the archaeological aspects Lucas was trying to evoke. As for sexism, well, maybe. However, I feel like the girls were all being themselves. You could say the expectations placed on the boys was a type of sexism as well. In any case, all of them were posing, trying identities on.
You make good points, Marilyn. We can only judge these characters, too, in the context of the time period in which they lived…like I said, perhaps I was just in a bad mood that evening.
I can’t remember where I read that about Lucas’ idea for the title (in fact, if I recall correctly, it also stated he had to fight the studio to keep the title as they didn’t understand it and thought no one would want to see a movie with a title that needed explaining). But when you think about it the way Lucas intended, the title is simple and brilliant.
Great writeup, Marilyn. I can’t imagine I’ll ever watch the movie, though, however good it might be. It’s difficult responding to the nostalgic appeal of something completely alien to one’s own experience. When I was that age I was doing things like playing cricket, listening to Beethoven or The Incredible String Band, and watching Doctor Who. 🙂
I understand your reluctance, but it really is a universal experience of youth, not just an exercise in nostalgia. Give it a try. You might surprise yourself.