The Wild One (1953)
“This is a shocking story. It could never take place in most American towns. But it did in this one. It is a public challenge not to let it happen again.” This is the pompous start to a pompous, boring, infuriating movie. This movie is horrible because we are horrible. In fact it’s not a movie, it’s an essay. The Wild One stars Marlon Brando, who is looking a bit pudgy two years after Streetcar. He chose his own outfit, which, from looking at the real pictures of the so-called ‘Hollister Riot’ (on which this film is ostensibly based) -- appears quite accurate, it may in fact be the only thing accurate about this film. The Wild One is about Marlon Brando as iconic representation of the exemplary juvenile delinquent: silent, brooding, angry, inarticulate, abused: he is the fault of all of us, and everyone’s problem. The famous line (which producer Stanley Kramer apparently overheard when eavesdropping on some bikers) occurs when Brando is asked: “What are you rebelling against?” Brando replies: “What have you got?” It’s a great line, probably because it was real. But it’s the only thing in this film that is. I’m sure it’s possible that some of the infamous 'juvenile delinquents' so popular in the 50s were created by fathers who mistreated them. After all, Brando, when he is being beaten by the police, says: “My old man used to hit harder than that.” Okay, we get it: if only his father had understood him. Well if only all our fathers had understood us -- but they didn’t -- and most of us didn’t turn out to be Marlon Brando. I’m not convinced there was ever such a thing as ‘juvenile delinquents.’ I went to public school in a Buffalo suburb in the early 60s and one day there was a rumour there was a going to be a ‘rumble.’ Apparently there was, and somebody produced a knife. But as far as I remember no one was hurt. What I’m saying is that there may have been troubled youths, or abused youths, or misunderstood young men, and they will always be around, and always have been, but that’s no reason to make a fetish out of them. And if you do, you are making it up for one reason and one reason only, to make money. Because there was no ‘Hollister Riot.’ Apparently a bunch of bikers partied in a town in southern California in 1947 and well — they didn’t wreck the town. In fact they didn’t do significant damage, and no one was hurt. Yes they were a ‘wild’ bunch of guys. But the media blew it up —way our of proportion — and somebody wrote a short story magnifying it, and bingo! -- there’s The Wild One. Someone also staged a photograph of a drunken 'Hollister Riot' biker that appeared in newspapers all across the country (they had to prop the guy up and spread bottles and garbage around him to make it look super-dissipated). The Wild One was part of the hysteria (sound familiar?) about biker gangs that swept the country in the early 50s; and the public ate it up. Believe me, I’ve got no reason to defend biker gangs, and I’m sure there are some really criminal ones, but the American Motorcyclist Association that gathered in Hollister was not one of them. I knew something was up when I saw these supposedly terrifying bikers go ‘out of control’ in this movie. Um, they block traffic (I know, horrifying), flirt with girls (shocking), ride pogo sticks in the middle of the street (I kid you not — is that not appalling?), turn over garbage cans (I’ve seen raccoons do worse) and yes they dress up in women’s clothes -- one of the scary bikers puts a mop over his head and says ‘Hey, I’m a girl!’ Was this the most insane orgy of violence they could come up with? If these are supposed to be decadent shenanigans, then nobody who made this move has ever been decadent or been ‘shenagged.’ No, worse, this movie is a lie which does not tell the truth. At one point some old codger is looking at the out of control young whippersnappers and he muses “Everything today is pictures, pictures and noise, nobody knows how to talk, they just grunt at each other.” How prescient. Now I will be the old fogy that is out of touch and dead eventually (that one gets hit by a motorcycle at the end of the film) and say that what we are living in right now has nothing to do with COVID-19 or public health, or even grandma and grandpa — who I’m not entirely sure really want you to ‘protect them,’ as I’m sure some of them are quite happy to die and let you take over, as that is the natural order of things, always was, and always will be. No, this COVID-19 fiasco is about the media and nothing else — all noise and pictures. Pictures of ventilators, pictures of people wearing masks, pictures of young children’s inflamed limbs, pictures of crying widows, of Anderson Cooper being concerned, public health officials being concerned, Doug Ford being concerned, and worried, and sad, and 'think of the children!' -- even though children have absolutely nothing to do with any of this. It’s not a plot, it’s not a conspiracy, no one is behind it, it’s what they used to call THE SINGULARITY which simply means that we have built a machine, and it’s called the digital world, and it is now taking over our lives, and there’s nothing we can do about it unless everybody dumps their damn computers in the river. Can I tell you one thing? Just as one example? If you get this disease you will probably not die and you will be completely immune from it forever after that. How do I know? Because that’s what Anders Tegnell -- the Swedish genius who managed to keep Sweden out of lockdown during COVID-19 -- says. If our bodies can’t build up an immunity to this disease then it will be the first COVID strain in which that craziness has occurred. So why are they telling us these lies? The answer is so mundane. It’s simply because: never before in the history of mankind was there such an efficient way of delivering lies, and never was it so profitable to do so. I really wish it was more complicated than that; but it all started with The Wild One (Elivis Presley’s gyrating hips came the year after) and we are now hooked. Hooked on our own deception.
