Inherent Vice

“… and here was Doc, on the natch, caught in a low-level bummer he couldn’t find a way out of, about how the Psychedelic Sixties, this little parenthesis of light, might close after all, and all be lost, taken back into darkness … how a certain hand might reach terribly out of darkness and reclaim the time, easy as taking a joint from a doper and stubbing it out for good” (page 254). in here, this place we call America, after what seemed to be like one of the eras that would bring this damned country to salvation, where it seemed like this country would have a sweet change of heart (key word: seemed), now is gone. the strong, intoxicating scent of marijuana-filled air and smoke covered bathrooms are to be replaced by this overly sanitized, yet still deeply, deeply dirty air. an air that feels like its hiding a disgusting secret, which in many such cases it does. theres a curse of uncertainty and paranoia lurking around this neck of the woods, a fear that wont let out not even fifty-something years later. the people are organizing and having this realization, a sort of clarity that the promises made by the counterculture of the 50’s and 60’s was just a farce. a painful reminder that the times we just got out of are only that, times we just got out of, never to be returned to again. as is with Time, always goes marching forward with no sign of stopping. aint it sort of like… somethin like.. the end of a dream? wondered (or was it.. wandered?) Larry’s weed-fried brain, slacking off on yet another day of distractin’ himself from the presumably dead ghosts of his past, one of them being the woman in trouble Shasta Fey, the one who slipped away. well Doc, in a way it sort of is; this large collective dream we’re still just stumbling our way out of. we’re thrown into this time and place where no one knows what in the Hell is going on, or if this is some kind of disguised Hell, or if there’s some kind of Heaven hidden beneath all this Hell. livin’ in the transitory period of what was before and what comes next, only the thing that comes next is nightmarish. all these monsters in upper ranks cleaning the dust off the streets, taking down some beautifully natural God-Made sights to make way for the ugly capitalist monuments; all meant to symbolize the thing that makes the world go round and round, Money. even our houses are being taken away by these sick fucks. the world never stops, it’s always changing. get that through your thick skull, Doc. living in some kind of fantasy twilight zone. she’s not coming back, no matter how much you flash back to those groovy moments in the rain, that dream in the beach, those images of Love, whatever that means. quit getting lost in the treacherous shores of Memory. when things end, it’s cause they were supposed to end, got it? — but he never did really get it. did anyone? the reason i’m revisiting this film is because i just finished reading Pynchon’s novel, which was fucking fantastic (duh). if this is really considered lower tier Pynchon then i am so unbelievably excited to dive into the rest of his bibliography (only one i’ve read prior to this is TCOL49). anyways, reading the novel obviously helped serve to make my fondness for this film grow even larger. personal gripes regarding the way that PTA tackled most of the stuff in the book aside, all in all i still think he did an amazing attempt at an adaptation, especially with the way he managed to translate Pynchon’s poetic language to screen. this shit still rocks. may very well be one of the most densest texts ever written, a treat that never stops its tracks for a moment of peace or certainty. eloquently captures the feeling of not knowing where you Are In Life, being stuck in the endless passage of time, and having to deal with the fact things just wont be the same again. ultimately it is a sad work, but not one that surrenders into complete cynicism. one thing i prefer from the film over the novel is that this one feels more Emotional, which could just be due to the fact that you’re seeing, you know, Real People reciting these lines instead of just words on a page, set against a soundtrack of music (which is great, btw). everyone is working at the top of their game in here, but mainly PTA, Phoenix, and the cinematographer Robert Elsewit, who provides so much texture and depth towards each shot and camera movement. still confused at some stuff in here, which is to be expected and is a feeling that most people who’ve watched this movie feel, but i honestly don’t mind it at all. giving into the pace and flow of the film/novel without caring about trying to understand the plot makes it such a hazy, entertaining ride. i have a feeling this isn’t the end of my journey with this film, it’s one i will definitely be consistently revisiting in the future and beyond. excited (and admittedly intimidated) to check out Gravity’s Rainbow soon, and even more excited for PTA’s next Pynchon adaptation (apparently coming out next year?) “Does it ever end? Of course it does. It did.”