Review of Vanishing Point (1971) by Dave M — 23 Jan 2012

Caught between the last gasps of the summer of love, post hippy dream, and the authoritarian disillusionment of the 70s lies the last American hero. He doesn't look like one and seems that he doesn't want to be one. He just found himself the focus of a quest for freedom by his will to drive out on the wide, dusty landscape of the open desert road. A white knight in his white steed he becomes a symbol more than a man. His words are few, emotions in check and motivation pure, he even stops to see that no one is hurt in the encounters and refuses an offer by a naked motorcycle rider. Therefore he lets the symbolism do the talking.

The film gives plenty of time to view the crowds of people on the roadsides, the Woodstock generation after the music has ended, looking older, with families, weighed down with real life, wondering what happened to the freedom movement and now finding themselves cheering the oppressive authorities trying to stop him. Indeed very soon we would all be cheering Dirty Harry and the dystopian 70s.

Soon the destination is irrelevant to the journey and evading the pursuit defeats the reason. Speed is freedom for the soul and if the road is blocked then why bother? Existentialism in a 1970 Dodge Challenger has never been so cool.