Please contact us
with corrections
or breaking news
Sunken Narratives: The Whole Shootin’ Match by D Swan
Please support our stories by liking articles—thanks!
Lloyd and Frank at the drinkin' joint, in a scene from 'The Whole Shootin' Match' (1978). photo: courtesy Eagle Pennen
cineSource will be commencing a new series of cine- and videomatic musings by our in-house Hitchcock and Scorsese enthusiast, D Swan. The theme could be considered "Aesthetics Are Fetish." Championed would be a philosophy that subsurface filmmaking is where it's at, acknowledging that such efforts are beloved within cultic cliques outside of which they become invisible. Our writer's fave living filmmaker managed to push innumerable buttons via his comment regarding "Avenger"s films as being uncinematic and tantamount to a theme park ride, particularly due to their lack of character depth and development.
MARTIN SCORSESE WAS RIGHT...
He tells us that if we want a theme park ride we should go to Magic Mountain.
Who are we to carp?
Obviously contrived junk is as interesting as Hollywood, so-called comedies, that aren't even good for a laugh.
The truly humorous movies aren't billed as such, arising from the far-out sensibilities of filmmakers such as Kubrick, De Palma, Hitchcock or Scorsese himself.
The latter's third feature, "Mean Streets" (1973) is bloody, literally, hilarious, partially 'cuz it isn't a formulaic, banal attempt at the obvious. Fully, absurd humor is found throughout such other raw work as "Taxi Driver" (1976), biopic "Raging Bull" (1980)", and the majestic, based-on-a-true-story, "Casino" (1995).
Scorsese has always been somewhat let us say, intense, despite such an earnest and sweet image.
Why shouldn't he publicly make a stink about the question of, as André Bazin would have it—What Is Cinema?
Who in the whole world would know better than Marty?
Anyway, our current semi-obscure ideé fixe would be a "regional film" as the pundits say, entitled "The Whole Shootin' Match" (1978).
Every filmmaking class globally should screen this movie. It's visceral proof that lack of lucre can be transcended with chutzpah and an openness to artistic accident, defined as making efficient use of all found sublimity.
This low-key masterpiece not only inspired Robert Redford in 1980 to undertake the Sundance Film Festival, Richard Linklater ("Slacker" 1990) lists it as a major influence on his work along with being a catalyst.
Imagine a doubly-goofy Slim Pickens, Lloyd (Lou Perryman) and his very best amigo, Frank (Sonny Carl Davis), a bargain basement Robert Duvall, drinkin' and fumbling their way through a picayune white trash paradise near Austin Texas with very little fancy, interfering filter to distance the goings on.
Lloyd is an inventor who formulates newfangled utilizations of baling wire and empty cans. He's even got a crummy office. Frank follows along and complains a lot.
Their adventures together are heart-warming and heart-breaking. The two buddy's conversations are ingeniously-written and vividly improvised.
Lloyd has been reading a book "The Secrets To Success" by J. Paul Winfield
Lloyd—(initially emphatically) What he says you've got tuh do is get your mind right.. it's the first thing you've got to do if you want to get somewhere is get your mind right.
Frank—My mind ain't right I guess, huh?
Lloyd—(ignores him) You've got to set yourself a program to reach those goals. You and me could start a program.
Frank—how much did you pay for these little gems of wisdom here, huh?
Lloyd—$14.95 I sent away for it. It's worth every penny of it.
Frank—The only person that's got a good program is J. Paul Snootfield makin fifteen dollars a whack off a turkeys like you.
Lloyd—I don't know why I waste my words on you you don't know nothin' about big business or high finance.
Later, Lloyd tries to convince Frank they should go into the polyurethane business.
Frank and Paulette at the drive-in. photo: courtesy Eagle Pennen
Lloyd—...and these rich hippies like it too they put it over their houses. They like it cuz it covers up their houses..
Frank—Gonna make money in this polyurethane business like there's gold up on Bocerra Mountain, you know what I mean?
Lloyd—(after a very long pause) There's gold up on Bocerra Mountain because them Indians put it there!! And there's gold in this business, gold money!
We're going to get rich! We're gonna get rich like all these other people!
Another conversation ends:
Lloyd—You wouldn't have been able to go drinkin in all your favorite places.
You like to go drinking at a discotheque?
This is the second of three projects director Eagle Pennen, (autonym, Glen Pinnen) had built around these two histrions, who were known as The Tumbleweed Hope and Crosby.
"A Hell Of A Note" (1977), a 28 minute short assayed the director's vision. Packed with humor and emotion, the thespianism fell a mile slight. Something big must've happened to set everyone's head straight, Shootin Match is full of good actin'!
Third in the series "Last Night At The Alamo" (1983) refers to a fave saloon hang-out being closed down and demolished for the construction of a high-rise office building. This attitude connects to that of Shooting Match, in which corporate culprits sh*t on the little guy. Alamo is a more difficult project regarding maintaining audience interest, being mainly based in one interior; it doesn't equal the 1978 effort, yet is auspicious.
Lou Perryman enjoyed a successful professional life, not only as an actor but also as a cinematographer and sound man. He participated in "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" (1974) and its 1986 follow up. He enjoyed roles in "Blues Brothers" (1980) along with "Boys Don't Cry" (1999) and The Night Hank Williams Died, on The Boards. Sadly, he was murdered, at home in South Austin Texas on April 1st of 2009, at 67 years old. He was a super-kuel character and his premature demise is a terrible loss.
Sonny Carl Davis, was involved with an Austin Texas band, Uranium Savages during the early 70s, prior to his cinematic associations. According to the IMDb database, he describes his flourishing career as "big roles in little films and little roles in big films".
Lloyd and Frank visit a hippie's dome. photo: courtesy Eagle Pennen
Doris Hargrave plays Frank's stiff upper-lipped wife, Paulette. Her character bears the brunt of Frank's out of control drinkin' and carousing while suffering from the dire fiscal circumstances connected to her old man's lack of common sense. The actress also occasionally functions as an assistant director and contributed to "No Country For Old Men" (2007) along with "The Ballad Of Buster Scruggs" (2018).
Most of the characters are truck owners, with a type of pecking order established based on having any remaining shiny finish and a relatively minimal dent count. Drinking and driving are not entirely unlikely.
The built environment is hardscrabble rough—a mythological Merle Haggard could find reasonable comfort amongst the decor or lack thereof, based on old sheets and the odd venerable, living room and front-porch coke machine.
This is a shacked-out world nearly as poor as that of Michelangelo Antonioni's "The Cry" AKA "Il Grido" (1957), which we found too depressing to complete; which says somethin' being that we're devoted to the Italian auteur's endeavors.
The downtrodden components of all three projects unfortunately are indirectly autobiographical for our director.
Beginning with a heap of promise, his career along with almost every relationship was ruined by an alcoholic susceptibility. Pennen died at the age of 49 during 2002.
A rewarding documentary, "The King Of Texas" provides great insight into his filmmaking and life. He charmed countless cast and crew members into working sans food craft tables and fiscal compensation. We find that he used the services of his younger brother, Chuck Pinnen, as musical composer for his early projects, and that Eagle eventually became an unbearable presence to him.
Economically utilizing 16 mm short ends, Pennen employees a non-Hollywood, particularized cinematography. Many takes are medium-long, and a number of seconds in length, while depth of field is held. A number of shots are faded, with the camera aiming toward the sun or against a "hot", white wall. The result is a personal yet cinema verité vibe, as if the characters are unaware they're being documented.
Likewise, again as an economy measure, certain in-vehicle scenes are shot against a black background. The effect is offbeat while adding to the risibility.
An experimental construct is utilized gamely to project a surrealist and phantasmagoric mood. Frank has a nightmare involving Lloyd and himself, connected to losing the rights to their vacuumized mop invention. Shortly thereafter he actually does find the two of 'em in a very disturbingly similar situation.
Toward the finale, roles have switched. Lloyd, bitter after the particularly nasty contractual screwing and losing any further proceeds from the Kitchen Marvel he invented—his acknowledged one and only good idea—has given up, and is drinkin' himself into a stupor. Frank, sober, has a treasure map and encourages Lloyd to join him in the hunt.
Frank may have shot himself, if so this'll end pretty much similar to A Hell Of A Note. Another similarity is the use of a beat-up, old Dodge short-wheelbase stepside pick up in the two productions. Filmmaking is referenced in the dialogue, preposterously, as an in-joke.
There's a ton of sadness around The Whole Shootin' Match, but it provides a spectacular experience for anyone with the savvy to seek it out.
Regarding Marty, he's become less like Socrates and is beginning to resemble Grandpa Smurf—he hasn't yanked a phone out of the wall for years.
Hopefully he'll cause no further inconvenience for the hoi polloi.
NOTE: "A Hell Of A Note", "The Whole Shootin Match", "Last Night at the Alamo" and "The King of Texas" are currently available at Amazon Prime and the last two are also on YouTube.
D Swan is a culture observer and creator, specializing in punk, Hitchcock, seedy glory and more, who can be reached .Posted on May 10, 2020 - 09:10 PM