Top Six Hippie Films From the 1960s
Leigh Taylor-Young in I Love You, Alice B. Toklas
In a 1969 interview, filmmakers and trailblazing creatives Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda were asked about the overarching message of freedom portrayed in their newly released film Easy Rider. Naturally, the two take a beat to mull over their thoughts, but Hopper soon proclaims: “Freedom to me in the movie is about people talking about freedom — not being free, but telling you that they’re free. They tell you that everything is great, but they’re really a herd, a group. They all dress alike, they talk alike, they look alike, they love alike, they hate alike. They’re all alike. And they talk about individual freedom. Freedom of the individual. But they’re not free individuals, they’re a herd who are constricted and hate any kind of change. That’s what the freedom in the film is about.”
In a sense, Hopper’s reflection speaks broadly on the idyllic aspiration and driving force behind the counterculture movement: to attain ultimate freedom. Whether that be freedom from the establishment, freedom from traditionalist lifestyles, or freedom from the ego, the hippies sought to bring those ambitions of true freedom to life and to break away from the so-called “herd.” The following films encapsulate those sentiments, as each protagonist’s journey depicts their attempt to break free from the respective chains that weigh them down. In no particular order, here are my top six favorite hippie films that are captured through a lens that will transport you right back to the height of the movement.
The Trip, 1967
Summary: A Lovely Sort of Death, or LSD for short. Comprised of colorful scenes shot on location in Laurel Canyon, the Hollywood Hills, and Big Sur, the Jack Nicholson written film takes place in the heart of California’s hippie culture. Peter Fonda stars as Paul Groves, a burgeoning director looking for a way out of heartbreak via LSD. As it’s his first trip, he attempts to make it a good one with the help of a guide, but soon abandons him as he runs out of the psychedelic communal mansion and into the bustling, erotic streets of Los Angeles. It’s then when he comes into contact with a string of people and places, all while being haunted by brooding LSD-induced visions. Eventually, the heady excitement fades as the sun rises and Paul settles back into reality.
Why I love it: Most fittingly, the film premiered during the Summer of Love and was able to resonate among its target audience. With an abundant flurry of flashing psychedelic scenes and patterns paired with hallucinogenic visuals, it feels as though we are experiencing the trip with Paul. The dizzying sequence that follows him through the Sunset Strip is heavy on the senses, with pulsating cuts to bright street signs soundtracked to an off-kilter saxophone. Altogether, it manages to capture the movement’s significant association/affiliation with substances, portrayed as a way to expand the mind and seen as a rebirth of sorts through a visually-oriented journey.
The onscreen synergy between Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper is also too great to be ignored. Although only together in a handful of scenes, their dynamic shows off their unique relationship. More specifically, the scene of the pair together during Paul’s reflective, circus-themed sequence with Hopper’s character, Max, as a judge — a foreshadowing of their iconic filmmaking partnership to come.
Psych-Out, 1968
Summary: The far-out scene of San Francisco is captured at its peak in this Dick Clark-produced film. Played by Susan Strasberg (who also starred in The Trip), runaway Jenny is deaf and on a quest to find her guru brother, who fled from their home to join the movement in San Fran. As she enters the city, she’s greeted with flowers and an overflow of free spirits on the sidewalk who welcome her to the scene. It’s when she’s sitting in a café that she meets Stoney, played by Jack Nicholson, and his band of friends. Declining their offer for a place to crash, Jenny continues to look for her brother, but fate soon ties her back to Stoney and his gang when she reaches a dead-end on her journey. The guys dotingly watch out for Jenny and help her find her brother in between band practices and gigs. But when Stoney soon becomes fixated more on the progression of their music over her, she returns to the streets all alone and finds that the exterior beauty of the scene isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be, especially when experiencing a bad trip.
Why I love it: From the get-go, we see the hippie culture through an authentic lens. The overwhelming sense of community is captured among those on Haight and Ashbury, peaceful protesters mingling with wandering pedestrians. We also see how the invasion of the movement treaded on the traditional lifestyles of those in the area. The older generation mistakenly scorns Jenny for being a free-wheeling “dope addict” and the cops express their hopeful happiness when “the costume party” will be over.
In a gradual turn of events, the blue skies are soon replaced with night scenes that reveal the downside of a bohemian existence. The progression of the movie subtly spirals from peace-loving and flower-giving to full fledge fist-fights. Warmth from strangers is traded for prey-like stalking, while scenes of frolicking flower children are traded for the cold gaze of spaced-out strangers. In the end, this contrast fulfills the message that director Richard Rush aimed to portray: a youth film that strays from being too “experimental” for mainstream audiences. Jenny’s drug sequence is another perfect example of this with frightening fireballs and jarring oncoming traffic. To drive the film home, Dean Stockwell’s character memorably utters in his last words: “Reality’s a deadly place. I hope this trip is a good one.”
The soundtrack and the soft-focused visuals go hand in hand. Psychedelic tunes from The Strawberry Alarm Clock and The Seeds exemplify the vibrancy of it all, unfolding together as a hypnotic trip of its own. Crowds groove to the music in a jam-packed club, body-painted limbs illuminating the dark corners of the room, while the band onstage performs with blissful smiles on their faces. It’s a kaleidoscopic snapshot of the tenor of the times and the all-star cast of Strasberg, Stockwell, Nicholson, and more bring the flower power, anti-drug movie to life with their performances.
I Love You, Alice B. Toklas, 1968
Summary: It all begins when businessman Harold Fine is forced to rent a far-out hippified van while his car is in the shop for repairs. Fine, played by Peter Sellers, is an established lawyer with his own practice and is soon to be married to Joyce, played by Joyce Van Patten. But when Harold discovers that he must attend the funeral of a family friend, he is forced to bring his estranged brother along. It’s then that Harold meets Nancy, played by Leigh Taylor-Young – his brother’s girl and free-spirited hippie. Nancy teaches Harold how to embrace his inner transcendentalist and soon enough, our protagonist ditches his uptight way of life for an open-minded, long-haired bohemian existence. The film’s most iconic scene happens when Harold’s uptight family devours Nancy’s brownies made from one of Alice B. Toklas’s special recipes, bridging the gap between the narrow-minded and the hippies of the time.
Why I love it: There is a certain lighthearted playfulness in the overall tone of the movie. Sellers’s performance of a straight-laced turned free-spirit Harold Fine is one that sticks in the mind and permanently imprints; it’s as equally memorable as the Harpers Bizarre ditty that replays throughout the film. It’s obvious that there is satire within the movie, but the delivery is not in-your-face like other films of its time that tend to over-hyperbolize the hippie movement. One aspect that I admired greatly is the small glimpses of city life in Los Angeles, from the beach scenes in Venice during the height of the hippie movement to the shot of the Sunset Strip where hitchhikers have their thumbs in the air. The atmosphere cultivated through simple frames like these makes it easy for viewers to immerse in the happening lifestyle of the sixties.
Additionally, the wardrobe of the film captures the characters’ personalities in a way that emphasizes their evolving ambitions. In the beginning, Harold dons his uniform of a suit and tie until he falls for Nancy and starts incorporating a more relaxed attire, replete with a tangle of love beads strung around his neck and headbands to adorn his locks. Nancy wears short mini dresses, flowy bell-sleeved peasant tops, and goes barefoot – matching her down-to-earth persona (and her job working in a vibrantly decorated dress shop also highlights her bubbly disposition). In contrast, Joyce wears two-piece pencil skirt suits and a beehive hair-do to coincide with her conventional image.
All in all, this is a film that acts as a time capsule of the sixties. The aforementioned scene that sees Harold’s family consuming the special brownies almost alludes to a uniting of the two cultures of the time: the traditionalists and the hippies. Paul Mazursky and Larry Tucker’s writing debut paired with the actors’ impeccable delivery is something of timeless, comedic magic.
Revolution, 1968
Summary: Documenting the height of the Summer of Love in its epicenter, San Francisco, the film spotlights individuals from both sides. The “Youth culture” are interviewed about their philosophy surrounding the movement, while the “uptight culture” give their analytical thoughts about the unfurling of the counterculture. Interspersed between these scenes are visuals of hippies in their natural habitats: enjoying nature in the park, flailing to music at a psychedelic concert, experimenting with acid, and all three at the same time. All in all, it is a look into the bustling Haight-Ashbury scene during its most pivotal time in style, music, and philosophical history.
Why I love it: Since there are sentiments and stories told from both sides of the field, it’s interesting to hear each of their views on the subject. Instead of siding with one particular side, director Jack O’Connell instead leaves the floor open to the viewer to form their own opinions. There is no bias, no persuasion, just an unvarnished glimpse into the hippie lifestyle. While it showcases the nitty-gritty of bohemia, it also captures the encroaching commercialization of Haight and Ashbury. For these reasons, the film categorizes itself as a historical work that almost feels like a time capsule.
The music also plays a big role in the culture of the hippies, and this film puts an emphasis on how the two are concurrently united. Featured in the film are bands such as Country Joe and the Fish, Quicksilver Messenger Service, and Steve Miller Band. O’Connell also had a hand in co-writing some of the music featured, particularly the song “Revolution,” which was played by Mother Earth. Additionally, in a “Where Are They Now” remaster, O’Connell follows up the film 19 years later with The Hippie Revolution. Here, he meets up with the same interviewed free-spirits from the 60s, dispersing clips of their lives as older adults in comparison to their younger selves. Both films are a wistful journey that takes viewers into the frame of mind behind the movement itself.
Easy Rider, 1969
Summary: Written, directed, produced, and starring Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda, the duo plays free-spirited motorcyclists, Wyatt and Billy, en route to New Orleans for the annual Mardi Gras festival. After picking up a hitch-hiker, they’re taken to his commune where they witness their naturalistic lifestyle and are given LSD before their departure, advised to be taken only with “the right people.” After being thrown in jail for crashing a parade, it’s then they meet Nicholson’s character George, who helps them out of jail. Existential conversations ensue about the country’s “antiquated system” and beyond. When Wyatt and Billy finally reach New Orleans, they consume the LSD with who they believe to be “the right people” and go on a mind-bending trip in a cemetery. Soon, the two free spirits come to the end of their road after claiming that they “blew it.”
Why I love it: Hopper and Fonda portray a different kind of hippie this time around — ones that crave the freedom of the open road and drugs more than psychedelic garments and gurus — as does Nicholson, who plays a square lawyer attempting to morph into the freewheeling lifestyle. Still, the film’s undercurrent of hippie ethos renders it one of the best to emerge from the New Hollywood era.
While the film does integrate certain elements that are reminiscent of The Trip, such as the scene involving a life-altering LSD trip, it does so in a way that portrays drug use through an unfiltered lens. Literally. In scenes where substances were shown, real drugs were used by the actors for authenticity. Aside from this, the film creators encapsulate the grit in the chase for ultimate freedom, the underbelly of the hippie movement that shows how things weren’t always so idyllic. It’s also important to mention how the soundtrack of the film exemplifies the tenor of the times. Upbeat music from The Byrds can be heard in scenes that involve the beauty of nature, while psychedelia from The Jimi Hendrix Experience is played while the cast is cruising down expansive roads.
On the surface, the film is a celebration of the boundlessness of America’s landscapes, on the flipside lays the harsh reality that everything isn’t always as picturesque. Hopper and Fonda capture the evolving social landscape of the 1960s, the tension between traditionalists and hippies, and the difference in societal attitudes across the country. The scene of communal life in the country depicts the spirit of free love, while the scene of our protagonists sitting in a diner waiting to be served depicts a sense of the narrow-minded Establishment. Nicholson’s character best summarizes the film when he states, “what you represent to them is freedom.” At its very core, Easy Rider is a thirst for freedom in an expansive country that was still very much divided in its morals and viewpoints.
Wonderwall, 1968
Summary: Einstein lookalike Professor Collins, played by Jack MacGowran, works in a stark white lab surrounded by insects, microscopic organelles, and bugs on the daily. When he arrives home one day to his disheveled dwelling, he notices a hole in the wall projecting the hypnotic silhouette of his neighbor Penny Lane, played by Jane Birkin. Soon, Professor Collins becomes infatuated with his model neighbor's life and eventful ongoings, completely disregarding his professional career to catch more glimpses of her life through a peephole (which soon turns into full-fledged gaping holes in the wall). In the end, the Professor rises above his wonderwall and saves the life of his “elusive butterfly,” now content and able to return to reality after his applauded heroic act.
Why I love it: Looking past the film’s plotline, its visuals, soundtrack, and overall aesthetics render it an essential film from the era. At first, the audience is led to believe that Professor Collins is only running wild with his imagination when he sees Penny in bizarre costumes and backdrops. It’s not until we learn about her profession that we realize how busy her life is. Dream sequences also help distinguish fact from fiction. It’s a hippie film in that it showcases the exuberant glitz and glamor of life in Swinging London, once again highlighting the difference between the life of the older generation and the counterculture. Professor Collins leads a bland lifestyle, devoid of color and excitement, whereas Penny lives in a world seen through a kaleidoscopic lens, teeming with jewel-toned fabrics and psychedelic wall paintings. Perhaps the only thing that binds the two together is their desire to escape from their current realities.
The film’s score and its composers are imperative to its legacy. Jane Birkin’s dialogue-less character is made up for through George Harrison’s ethereal score. Inspired by Indian music, Harrison’s incorporation of the sitar, tabla, and sarod accentuates cinematographer Harry Waxman’s trippy hippie vision.“’Wonderwall’ was a kind of 60s hippie movie,” the former Beatle said. “Joe Massot came to me and asked if I would do the music to his film. I told him, ‘I don’t do music to films,’ and he said, ‘Well, whatever you give me, I’ll have it.’” The soundtrack thus birthed Wonderwall Music, Harrison’s debut solo release on Apple Records. Enlisting fellow creatives Ringo Starr, Eric Clapton, and Ravi Shankar, Harrison built a fantastical world using just music alone. Close friend Peter Tork even had a hand in the soundtrack. While visiting London in December of 1967, Tork recorded a brief banjo segment that, while it didn’t make the official soundtrack, can be heard early into the film. Working in tandem with the film’s storyline, Harrison tells about the rise and fall of our protagonists through sonic vignettes, making Wonderwall Music a stand-alone masterpiece. (My personal favorites are “Cowboy Music” and “In the First Place”)
On an aesthetic note, the set design took inspiration from pop-art-esque fashion shoots, while Dutch design collective The Fool were commissioned to create everything from graphics to costumes. The Fool’s DNA is easily perceptible on the set and evokes a sense of whimsical fused with psychedelia that captures the essence of a turbulent decade. If anything, Wonderwall is worth watching for its soundtrack and trippy visuals alone.