THE FALL
(Peter Whitehead, UK, 1969, BetaSP, 120 minutes)
Right: Peter Whitehead in 1968
I am not capable of experiencing the real and never have
been, which is why I have had such an amazing life...I even
married a Swedish girl so I could come to terms with Bergman.
-- Peter Whitehead
Ten years after wrapping up The Fall, Peter Whitehead (born 1937) dropped out of the cinematic rat race to become a falconer and novelist. Dividing his time between England and Saudi Arabia, it's the unique career path he follows to this day. It's no wonder, then, that his movies has become more and more obscure with each passing year.
Into the breach steps Northwest Film Forum with the first US retrospective of Whitehead's cinema verité-style filmography (some works are non-fiction, others a hybrid of genres). From Nov 3-12, the NWFF will be screening eight films. Three are between 30-33 minutes and five range from 60-120 minutes, including the ninth, Pop Films, a compilation of music promos or what we now call "videos," though I would imagine all were shot on film.
As NWFF programmer Adam Sekuler notes, Whitehead intended The Fall as a statement on the decline of democracy (the director also describes it as "the first totally post-modern film"). Though set in the aftermath of Martin Luther King Jr.'s assassination, it's as much a statement on the rise of democracy--an ineffective one perhaps, but a democracy, nonetheless.
Whitehead roams around New York between the volatile years of 1967 and 1968, capturing dissent from all sides: famous and not-so-famous protesters against the Vietnam War, along with those who supported the conflict, holding up their "Bomb Hanoi" placards with pride. Ordinary citizens engage in street-corner throw-downs, like a high-pitched, orange-lipsticked dowager, who accuses her working class compatriot of Neo-Nazism. Amazingly, they don't come to blows. With the exception of a disturbing performance piece involving a helpless dove, Whitehead isn't as interested in violence as its after-effects. Just people having their say. If that isn't democracy, what is?
Not everything works. Our entry into this now-alien world is through the eyes of a British photojournalist, played by Whitehead himself. He resembles Terence Stamp, who appears in Tonite Let's All Make Love in London, and enjoys the "chic" lifestyle--to quote Gloria Steinem--of tight-trousered David Hemmings in Blow-up, a role inspired by British shutterbug David Bailey, lover of Catherine Deneuve and Jean Shrimpton (Whitehead, in turn, has been linked with Bianca Jagger and Nico). He's joined by Italian fashion plate Alberta Taburzi, his girlfriend at the time. They meet when he snaps her modeling a "peace dress."
[Whitehead arranged a screening of 1966's Charlie Is My Darling for Antonioni. It's believed that this rare 'Stones doc, not part of the NWFF series, had a profound influence on the director's era-defining film.]
Beyond following this duo around Manhattan, that's pretty much all there is to The Fall, but that certainly sets it apart from most other non-fiction portrayals of the 1960s. Like Blow-up, Richard Lester's Petulia, and especially Haskell Wexler's Medium Cool, it's a provocative snapshot of a particular time and place. And like those films, it's shot in the style of the day. That means swirling psychedelia, pulsating montage, disorienting close-ups (mostly of Alberta's false eyelash-clad eye) -- even a dance sequence.
For viewers tired of being talked-down to in documentaries, this may be the film for you. There's no narration or commentary, and the dialogue between man and muse is superfluous (I'm guessing it was improvised). In other words, Whitehead doesn't say what to think. Nor does he identify the subjects who appear on screen.
Consequently, if you don't know who they are, RFK aside, you may be at a loss. A short list includes Paul Auster, Tom Hayden, Stokely Carmichael, H. Rap Brown, Arthur Miller, and Robert Rauschenberg (much less obnoxious here than the kook in Who Gets to Call It Art?).
I found The Fall to be self-indulgent at times--some have dismissed it as "narcissistic," an accusation Whitehead strongly denies-like the bit in which Taburzi dances around in a short, silken robe. Time and time again, Whitehead tries to look up that wisp of fabric, but she draws the material around her hips whenever he gets too close. On the other hand, it's rather sexy stuff, something you can't say that about many documentaries.
Misgivings aside, The Fall whet my appetite for more Peter Whitehead, and I'm particularly looking forward to essential 1960s document Tonite Let's All Make Love in London, featuring his Cambridge contemporary Syd Barrett of Pink Floyd, along with Roman Polanski and other leading lights of 1960s pop culture. Best of all: there are no tennis-playing mimes!
I could not walk down the street without editing, panning,
zooming...so I gave it up totally and went into falcons.
--Peter Whitehead
Quotes from a 1997 interview with Whitehead in Entropy. The Fall plays Northwest Film Forum Nov 11-12, Sat.-Sun., at 7 and 9:30pm. The series LET'S ALL MAKE LOVE IN LONDON: THE FILMS OF PETER WHITEHEAD runs from Nov 3-12. Passes available. The NWFF is located at 1515 12th Ave., on Capitol Hill. For more information, please click here. You can also call (206) 329-2629 for general info and (206) 267-5380 for show times.
Images: the IMDb (Peter with camera), BFI (Peter staring at camera and in a cab), Rouge (Alberta Tabirzi), and Pallant Bookshop (The Fall poster).
I dug The Fall mostly as bit of nostalgia as I dig all movies that give a glimpse of the New York of my childhood. In addition the film covers the student protests at Columbia, an event which my father and sister experienced first hand [my dad was part of the faculty committee that negotiated with the students and my sister was a student at Barnard]. Lastly, I must give Whitehead props for using a couple of Nice tunes, although the snippets of Keith Emerson's organ attacks from 'America' did get a bit relentless at times.
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