The Rebel Rousers (1970)

Director: Martin B. Cohen
Writers: Abe Polsky, Michael Kars and Martin B. Cohen
Stars: Cameron Mitchell, Bruce Dern and Diane Ladd

Index: The First Thirty.

Oh dear, oh dear. Going strictly by the dates of release, Jack Nicholson ended the sixties on his highest note thus far, with Easy Rider being his first bona fide classic and bringing his first Oscar nomination, but he started the seventies on his lowest note thus far, with this debacle.

I’ve seen it before and reviewed it too, and it remains just as bad as it’s always been, but it’s a little more interesting when seen in context of Nicholson’s career.

The first important thing to know is that it wasn’t shot in 1970 in the wake of Easy Rider. It was shot in 1967 at the peak of outlaw biker movies but only released in 1970 in the wake of Easy Rider. It has more in common with Hells Angels on Wheels that was actually released in 1967, hardly a great outlaw biker movie either but a heck of a lot better than this with a far better part for Nicholson.

However, the outlaw bikers causing trouble for regular folks angle is only half the picture. The other half follows Paul Collier on his quest to find his girlfriend, Karen, and, once he does, to reconcile with her. You see, she’s pregnant with his child but they’re not married and he suggested an abortion and she ran and we’re suddenly in a fifties teen drama. This isn’t Hells Angels on Wheels three years on, it’s Too Soon to Love ten years on and that was late even then.

They’re hardly teenagers, as Paul is played by Cameron Mitchell, who was forty-nine in 1967, and Karen is Diane Ladd, who was thirty-two. That they act like old teenagers is highly appropriate, given that few teenagers in fifties teen melodramas were played by teens either, but they do stretch the envelope a little far.

The second important thing to know is that The Rebel Rousers is a Martin B. Cohen film. He co-wrote it, produced it and directed it for his company, Paragon International Pictures. And he was also the agent for both Bruce Dern and Diane Ladd, for whom the film was intended. Mitchell was only brought in to be a name.

In other words, it would seem to be fair to look at this as a Dern/Ladd vehicle, but it kind of sucks for both of them, not because they do bad work but because their characters have no value or substance at all.

Karen starts out with some strength, having run away from Paul to have her baby, but that whittles away to nothing after a conversation in their car. I’m not sure how he thinks he can convince her to marry him after all, his logic being that a) she’s being stupid, a line that has never worked out for any man at any time in recorded history, and b) she can’t have a baby because she doesn’t have a ring on her finger.

Clearly, we’re still in 1955 at this point but some of the Rebel Rousers jump on the car and pull them out and suddenly she’s a damsel in distress in 1967 and remains that way for the rest of the movie, literally waiting for Paul or anyone else to come and save her from being forcefully married to Bunny, who thinks she’s cute. That’s Jack Nicholson’s character. At no point does she cry out “Hailp!”, but she’s very much Penelope Pitstop here and Paul is an old, tired and beaten up Ant Hill Mob.

Dern plays J. J. Weston, the erstwhile leader of the Rebel Rousers, and that seems like it’s a good casting choice, especially in the wake of The Wild Angels, in which he played the pivotal role of the Loser. However, he never seems to be in charge of anything. He starts out the film saying hi to Paul, who was an buddy of his in high school, and continues it like a hippie who happens to lead a gang of violent thugs. They want to rape and pillage. He wants them to like, be cool, man. That isn’t where it’s at. Why do you have to be so violent all the time, man?

A third interesting thing to know, even if it isn’t particularly important, is that Ladd was actually pregnant during this picture. She and Dern were married in 1960 and conceived the future movie star Laura Dern during the shoot of The Wild Angels, arguably making these two films her debuts, even though she hadn’t been born yet. However, they’re not a couple in this movie. J. J. does try to help Karen out but for his old buddy Paul, not for himself.

The fourth thing to know, important for me here in Arizona, is that the picture was shot in two locations. The small town into which the Rebel Rousers ride is Chloride, Arizona, not far outside Kingman and the oldest continuously inhabited mining town in state. Given that the population is a couple of hundred, I’d guess it probably looks much the same now as it did in 1967. The townsfolk in the film are the actual townsfolk, whether playing checkers as bikers party in their cantina or refusing to help Paul when he comes seeking, in scenes reminiscent of High Noon, as directed by Tommy Wiseau.

Needless to say, a silver mining town in the mountains of northwest Arizona doesn’t have a beach, so all those scenes were shot back in California, at Paradise Cove in Malibu.

The fifth and final thing to know is that the sound is pretty dismal. I can’t tell you why, but while it’s appropriate for us to struggle to hear J. J. talking to Paul at the beginning of the film over his throbbing motorcycle engine, it isn’t remotely appropriate in most of the rest of the film. There’s a whole argument on the beach between diplomat J. J. and the violent faction of his group and I couldn’t tell you what it was about, because, while it sure looks like they’re all shouting at each other, it sounds like they only employ sedate whispers.

It’s almost embarrassing to realise just how much talent is wasted in this movie by an awful script, and that pun wasn’t intended but works anyway. Cameron Mitchell isn’t a minor name but he struggles to combine a fifty year old teenager with a cheap Gary Cooper. Dern and Ladd are given worthless characters. John “Bud” Carlos tries as the sheriff but his best scenes don’t exist because, when needed, he’s a hundred and fifty miles away. Dean Stanton, once again without the Harry, has character as Randolph Halverson, with political campaign buttons gay mannerisms, but he has little to do beyond that.

And that leaves Jack Nicholson as Bunny in striped trousers and a big beanie. Even though he drives the second half of the film when he helps beat up Paul and wants to claim Karen for his own, he never seems to be more than a supporting character doing only what the script says he must. In 1967, this would have been a necessary step on his quest for roles. In 1970, it was a past embarrassment to ignore.

Even László Kovács’s cinematography isn’t worthy of note and that seems most shocking.