This past week (Oct. 14-21) was the 21st annual New Orleans Film Festival, featuring showings at The Prytania Theatre, the CAC, NOMA, The Theatres at Canal Place and other locations. I was able to attend a screening of Howl –– based on the poem of the same name –– starring James Franco, at The Prytania, and I felt the full effect of the popularity this festival has gained in recent years.
The Prytania is not a particularly large theater; in fact, one of its many charms –– among them the vintage, classic feel and atypical movie selections –– is the modest size; it avoids the formula of epic mega-plexes replete with mindless blockbusters. A trip to The Prytania is, in many ways, a trip back in time –– generations have seen it change only minimally, maintaining its character.
Keeping the size of the venue in mind, I was shocked to walk up to the theater and see a line of ticket-holders wrapped around the corner. The wait was admittedly very long, and the doors didn’t open until about 30 minutes after the supposed show time. But once inside the theater, I felt a bit of the exciting appeal of a film festival –– energy and expectations, meet-and-greets with filmmakers and the buzz of hipster film-buffs (and, in this case, lit-buffs) who were ready to criticize the big-screen iteration of iconic beat poet Allen Ginsberg.
As for the movie itself, Howl was a mostly positive mixed bag. Franco was fantastic as Ginsberg, nervous and honest and passionate. The story was also quite moving, telling of Ginsberg’s sad childhood and the realization of his homosexuality, followed by a lonely and luckless love life. (It’s got to be hard to fall in love with, and be subsequently rejected by, Jack Kerouac.) Ginsberg also experienced a stint in a mental hospital, where he befriended Carl Solomon, whose intense treatments in the hospital inspired “Howl.”
The movie was a mash-up of four main elements: Ginsberg reciting the eponymous poem at an underground beatnik poetry reading, an odd animated narrative of the poem itself, Ginsberg explaining his life and the poem to an anonymous interviewer and finally a courtroom scene recounting the obscenity trial against the publishers of “Howl.”
The courtroom scene delved into 1950s views of censorship, vulgarity, sexuality and art, ultimately (spoiler alert!) concluding that the poem was not, in fact obscene, and that it was “of redeeming social importance.” Highlights of the court scene included Jon Hamm’s portrayal of a cool and collected defense lawyer and Jeff Daniels’ smug and nauseating literary “expert” testifying against the poem.
Although the height of the beat generation is long-gone, I feel like every generation since (and possibly before) experiences many of the same challenges, urges and disillusionments. Every generation thinks the preceding one doesn’t understand; every generation thinks the following one doesn’t appreciate. Ginsberg called Part I of “Howl” "a lament for the Lamb in America with instances of remarkable lamb-like youths”; Part II "names the monster of mental consciousness that preys on the Lamb"; and Part III is "a litany of affirmation of the Lamb in its glory."
If Ginsberg’s descriptions may seem over-the top, well, it’s poetry. And though many readers (or viewers, in this case) can’t quite relate to being institutionalized and held to 1950s morality standards, we can all relate, on some level, to the desire to break free, to be honest and to be true to ourselves. As I sat watching Howl as a part of the New Orleans Film Festival, I couldn’t help but look around and wonder how many audience-members did relate:
The “angel-headed hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night…
“Floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz…
“Who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty incantations which in the yellow morning were stanzas of gibberish.”
I think the ultimate message of the movie, the poem and of Ginsberg’s life itself is one to which New Orleanians can relate: a howl of joy, not of pain or agony. An absolute expression of life and vitality. Ginsberg (spoiler alert, again) finally found love with his life partner, Peter Orlovsky, and ultimately became one of the most influential voices of the beat generation. “Howl” is considered one of the great works of the 20th century.
While the film Howl may not be remembered at such a level, it was undoubtedly a successful addition to the Film Festival –– New Orleans will always appreciate the spirit of artists, lovers, poets and musicians, especially the obscene ones. And if this year was any indication, we can rely on the New Orleans Film Festival to continue to bring them to us.