FROM THE ARCHIVE: Dazed and Confused
Old enough to have nostalgia for nostalgia. Plus, It's just a good title. And, it's currently streaming on Hulu.
Get ready for time travel folded in upon itself. You might need to make a chart or diagram…
I’m reading (and enjoying) a book by Chuck Klosterman called The Nineties, which is all about 90’s nostalgia (such a thing can now exist). In it, he expends a significant amount of space exploring Dazed and Confused, a movie about 70’s nostalgia. This made me nostalgic for a piece I wrote — in the ‘90s — about that same film on the occasion of its video release. (Remember VIDEOTAPES?)
Confused? Dazed? Good. You’re in the correct state of mind for a quick visit to a simpler time — to explore an even simpler time.
When I was a young post-boomer stripling, I used to ask older folks whether or not the fab ‘50s were anything like they were portrayed on Happy Days and its various spin-offs. To our mind, the world that Richie Cunningham et. al. inhabited had to be infinitely cooler than what we were experiencing in the ‘70s. Our more existential moments down by the river found us pondering our own place in history; would anyone ever look back at a cause-less era defined by disco, Jimmy Carter, polyester, roach clips, and bad television with a sense of romantic “wish I was there” nostalgia? No, we decided. The world of the future would have to be bleak indeed to desire a return to bell bottoms and The Brady Bunch.
Live and learn.
Dazed and Confused was director Richard Linklater’s ode to his wasted (read “waayst-ed, man...”) youth. In a significant break from Hollywood convention, the only demographically-defined baby boomer character in the movie is the largely ignored “hip” teacher, “Ms. Stroud.” The era of righteousness for children of the ‘60s was winding down by 1976; realizing that the world was not going to be fixed by them (and that a new dinette set and extra car would be nice), preparations for making big money in the ‘80s were under way in dark corners not explored by Dazed and Confused.
Self-serving bitterness aside, I was pleased to note the subtle manner with which Linklater constructed a 1976-era ambiance. No close-ups of mood rings or conveniently placed news stands with the headlines of the day—just the unmistakable floating-by of various hunks of unmistakable cultural flotsam and jetsam; chokers, Angel’s Flight jeans, KISS memorabilia, over-the-ears male hair styles, etc. If you squint, everyone looks like Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam.
There are moments in this film that are almost documentarian. Who hasn’t sat in the woods with or around some hemp while stringing together earnest anecdotes of revisionist history that tie our Founding Fathers to the doper cause? (“...Behind every great man is a great woman, and it’s a known fact that Martha Washington had a big bowl waiting for George when he got home every night.” A similar line occurred in the movie, but in this case I’m quoting a discussion I remember actually having.)
If the characters seem broadly drawn, it’s because the main “types” of the day were cartoon-like. A thumb-wielding movie critic might say that the lead stoner in Dazed (“Slater”) is just a bit overdone, but these well-fed boarding school graduates simply haven’t had the opportunity to share high school Clay Class with the real-life models for the role (“See, now it’s a tree trunk, but turn it over and… it’s a bong, man!”).
An interesting sidelight; the jittery, angst-infested character named “Mike” is what one-note actor Jeff Goldblum must have been like in high school. Watch the movie and tell me I’m wrong.
Also available and recommended are the companion book (Dazed and Confused, St. Martin’s Press) and soundtrack (on Giant Records). The book, which is better read after viewing the film, contains period-specific items lifted from fan mags and Mad magazine as well as “Profiles in Confusion” that further explore the film’s protagonists with a razor-sharp eye for detail (including a reproduction of one of those all-on-one-sheet serial notes girls used to pass back and forth in class). The soundtrack contains the ‘70s nuggets you expect, with a bonus being the fact that you can own a CD version of Nazareth’s “Love Hurts” without having to purchase the entire otherwise mediocre Hair of the Dog album.