Directed by:
Richard C. SarafianScreenplay:
Guillermo Cabrera InfanteCinematography:
John A. AlonzoCast:
Barry Newman, Cleavon Little, Dean Jagger, Victoria Medlin, Paul Koslo, Robert Donner, Timothy Scott, Gilda Texter, Anthony James, John Amos (more)Plots(1)
An ex-racecar driver gets high on Benzedrine and leads the police on a hectic chase. (official distributor synopsis)
Videos (1)
Reviews (5)
An Afro-American and his bet with a white “born to be wild" man. And that’s it for the story. Revving engines. And that’s it for dialogs. At the beginning I was absolutely carried away with this, but gradually Sarafian wore down my patience with the fact that almost every scene is identical to the one preceding. Which is a shame, because for instance the silent drive through the desert is perfect “philosophy on tires". Except then we return to the original concept - one scene - a rapping DJ, the same scene, the DJ is still rapping, (attn. change:) a DJ spouting wisdom for life and then the same scene again but in a different location. The only thing that successfully carries this movie to its destination is the charismatic performance of the hero (of course this is that shiny white 1970 Dodge Challenger) and fantastic camera.
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Obviously a major inspiration for American postmodernists like Lynch, Tarantino, Jarmusch, and Refn. And quite understandably so, as this surreal journey through an America full of lost lonely weirdos builds the most authentic sense of lostness and burnout, yet still gets us to hold our breath at the incredible police chase scenes. In fact, the father pointing out that he could have endangered innocent people with his driving is such a barometer of where you stand here. But this film is about resistance not only against the rules, but especially against sense and rationality. Of course, I'm not going to apologize to Honza Kočka for stealing flowers from his grave now and then.
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Ever since I’ve been travelling four and a half hours by train to school and back, I don’t see anything interesting, fun or stimulating about long trips (from and to anywhere). That’s it.
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The chase begins. A white 1970 Dodge Challenger hurtles down a scorching highway and, on the way to California, the story of the driver of this white tiger in the scorching desert is revealed to us. The time when this movie was made was a time of great music, wonderful girls and a world that was only just beginning to be bound by rules and regulations. Vanishing Point is a very weirdly, but also a very originally told story. Sarafian has an amazing eye for choosing camera angles and almost every shot of the highway with the white tiger hurtling down it is breathtaking. While watching the movie, I started toying with the idea that I would get my hands on a 1970 Challenger and (what with today’s gas prices) convert it to run on hydrogen. Then I’ll be able to make road trips to anywhere I like.
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Together with Easy Rider, one of the pillars of the road movie from an era when the road movie probably was the best reflection of the liberating movement of American cinema. It’s a mildly hallucinogenic and morally relaxed tour through the tail-end of the hippy era, but also sweaty, dirty and morally hopeless in the style of the harsh 1970s and the general genre revolution ignited by the uncompromising ending of Bonnie and Clyde. It never goes very deep, Vanishing Point is mainly an exciting, chromed-plated adventure on sweltering roads, where the protagonist can, at least for a moment, flip the bird to his past and the law, which are hot on his heels. And it’s terrifically effective and contagious (not to mention how much I adore the American neo-westerns from the 1970s). 80%
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Gallery (38)
Photo © Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corporation
![Vanishing Point - Photos](http://image.pmgstatic.com/cache/resized/w663/files/images/film/photos/161/309/161309537_f44f74.jpg)
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