The Source (1999)

This documentary is a treat, a look at the beat writers that benefits not only from a wealth of vital source information, including interviews with major figures, but also from an abundance of intelligence and wit. Interspersed with clips of Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, Neal Cassady, and William S.  Burroughs are brilliant montages of clips that set the beats in the context of their times. The story of how the beats rebelled against American conformity in the 1950s is well known, of course, but this documentary manages to find fresh ways to relate their views on life and writing. Segments in which Johnny Depp, John Turturro, and Dennis Hopper portray, respectively, Kerouac, Ginsberg, and Burroughs may strike some as extraneous, but the good performances redeem their inclusion in the film. As befits the documentary's title, The Source devotes considerable attention to the influence of the beats, and interviews with such notables as Ken Kesey, Jerry Garcia, and Philip Glass, performance clips of Bob Dylan, and news footage from the 1960s establish how the sensibility of the writers trickled into all of society. This is not only a fine introduction to the beats, but those who already revere them will find the profusion of material contained it to be a delight. --Robert J. McNamara Amazon.com

Great clips but too damn Hollywoodized

What's good about this documentary is all the great footage of the Beats. There is amazing interview footage of Corso and Burroughs later in life that I haven't seen anywhere else, along with choice clips of interviews of all the Beats that are in the other three or so good documentaries out there. (Really worth seeing are "Kerouac: King of the Beats," "What Ever Happened to Kerouac?", and "The Beat Generation".) It's very worth watching just for this footage.

But unfortunately it tries to be too hip and too cute and ends up just being too glib and too distracting. It jumps frenetically between little swatches of otherwise great archival footage to stupid TV shows of the time, or to unrelated street scenes or bands playing. All of which gives it a distracting Attention Deficit Disorder/MTV music video feel. Very polished and Hollywood and very out of sorts with the Beats focus on authenticity. The film didn't need all this mess. The subjects of the documentary are so fascinating and energetic all by themselves, I don't know why the makers would try to spice it up by interrupting the enthralling footage with endless splices of goofy sounds and images.

Another annoying thing is that the makers work far too hard to draw the lineage between the Beats and the Hippies and the free speech movement. They end up talking about the 60s and to 60s personalities much too long. The connection between the Beats and Hippies is there, of course, but the makers way oversimplify and make it seem as if it's obvious to everyone that the Beats started the whole social revolution singlehandedly. And that's silly. It would have been much more potent if they'd spent less time on all that and instead had shown more of their great interview and performance footage of the main folks.

Again, very worth watching but I sure found the meddling of the film makers frustrating. February 18, 2006

The Glory of the Beatniks.

This movie is a fast ride and a lot of fun. It is the furthest thing from a slow-moving documentary. The technical style and flair would appeal to practically any viewer. The Source is glossy and gorgeous. The director's clout is also impressive. Johnny Depp gives a performance monologue as Jack Kerouac and John Torturro gives an emotional reading from "Howl." Dennis Hopper imitates Burroughs as well later in the film. Their efforts are impressive.

Just to let the skeptics out there know, there is no room for doubt in this documentary. The beats are heroes and saviors--and not much else is considered. That some of them were minor talents is brushed over. Massive beat generation fans would give it five stars. A totally sanitized version of William S. Burroughs is presented, and it is implied that Kerouac was only a heterosexual, which is something that most commentators would regard as dubious. The film's attitude towards drug use is rather slanted. One memorable quotation was, "you can overdose on anything including sushi." Well no, not really.

It does not matter though, the movie is an amazing sprint and it succeeds in making itself impossible to turn off. May 14, 2005

A good introduction to Beat influence, but very broad

A documentary that wears its heart on its sleeve, "The Source" is a great collection of archival clips and contemporary interviews. It overreaches trying to connect all of the movement's reference points from Herbert Huncke to Henry Rollins -- the final half hour is a dizzying mix of quick cuts and fleeting words -- though it certainly does indicate the breadth of Beat syle, the film takes on a very slapdash quality. The admirable recreations of Ginsberg, Kerouac and Burroughs seem unncessary when there's so much available footage, especially in a film that runs only 90 minutes. Still, ten seconds of Neal's madcap jitterbugging is worth all the well-intentioned homage. (One final sticking point: an all-inclusive overview of Beat influence that doesn't include Patti Smith, Tom Verlaine or Richard Hell isn't really complete, is it?) Workman did extensive digging in the film archives, however, reminding us that the Beat movement was as visual as it was literary. The final scenes of Ginsberg reading his own words on Times Square marquees is especially moving. April 25, 2005

A little disappointing but still worth seeing

The DVD is interesting, but there is too much of the same old commentary that has been circulating in beat documentaries for years. Many of the folks interviewed weren't all that significant to the movement. However, the Burroughs footage alone is worth the effort - but not nearly enough Jack Kerouac footage - there should have been much more of Jack and much less modern critique by folks who just weren't there. I would have liked to have seen more of Gregory Corso as well, but he has some priceless moments in the film! The Neil Cassady footage is also very good. Ginsberg is Ginsberg. I didn't get the point of the Johnny Depp/Dennis Hopper/John Turturro bits. Although Turturro's performance is by far the best! Overall, it's a nice documentary but not as ground breaking as was hyped. October 28, 2003

'Source' of Inspiration

"The Source," director Chuck Workman's documentary about the Beat Generation, is as close to communing with a bygone generation as possible. In this examination of the lives of modern American literature's unholy Trinity -- Allen Ginsberg ("HOWL"), Jack Kerouac ("On the Road") and William S. Burroughs ("Naked Lunch") -- and how they unwittingly made thoughts pulse to their own strange beat, Workman's film releases the essence of these legends by casting a spell of media voodoo. Ironically, this same method of divination is responsible for bringing bits of these great personalities into the minds of today's commercially fed youth -- remember the infamous Burroughs Nike ad and the use of Kerouac's image to sell blue jeans?

This look back at the fathers of the Beat Generation was filmed before Ginsberg was silenced by cancer in the spring of 1997, yet the poet functions as a spirit-guide not unlike Virgil in Dante's "Inferno." He gently takes us from the initial meeting of the three writers in 1944 at Columbia University to their inspiration by Neal Cassady through the '50s, the Jazz Age and into the '60s with the youthful interpretation of what they started and how it fomented a revolution.

Like Dante, we are left on our own for much of the documentary to sort through the barrage of incredible footage, interviews and huge cast of players, which Workman must have sold nearly a pound of his own soul to procure. The surreal nature of Burroughs loading his gun or watching Neal Cassady do a jig by a Volkswagen bus, plunges the audience even deeper into the past by humanizing men whose mythic importance is on the same level as JFK or James Dean.

It is these scenes that make "The Source" such a fine record of a lost age. Workman's labor of love is crafted like the best college history courses. We hear exactly what altered the state of the spoken and written word, and the writers' astonishment that they were being emulated and taken so seriously. Burroughs' contempt, Kerouac's confusion and Ginsberg's quiet acceptance of their fame are illuminating to those of us who weren't there or didn't pay close enough attention to the centers of culture.

Workman goes a bit astray with his use of reenactments, a decidedly MTV convention that, for the most part, serve only as a minor distraction. It's easy to buy Johnny Depp reciting bits and pieces of Jack Kerouac's works in what looks like a roadside bar, but Dennis Hopper's attempts at sections of Burroughs' "Junky," "Interzone" and "Queer" are terrible. It might be because Hopper is, in fact, a legend unto himself, and it's difficult to see him as another from the same period. (An excellent Burroughs can be seen in David Cronenberg's "Naked Lunch" starring Peter Weller as an amalgamated William S.). All is forgiven, though, because the fresh memory of John Turturro's visceral rendition of Ginsberg's "HOWL" outside the Rockland State Hospital in New York City is unforgettable and truly inspired.

However, much of the footage is painful, and Workman is determined to present this mythological period by picking at the scabs of time and the recent commercial deification of these people. Scenes of an angry and pickled Kerouac trying to discuss the essence of writing with talk show host Steve Allen -- and then if you can believe it, William F. Buckley -- are quite sobering and make it clear that theirs' was more of a struggle than a party.

Then there are the shots of Burroughs that are about as comforting as the cold sweat that lets the addict know he hasn't killed himself. He's young and dangerous, wielding a knife in one scene and a syringe in the next. And although there is a perverse thrill watching the world-famous junky shoot up for the camera, we also get to see the needles in his eyes filled with scorn for anyone unlucky enough to be on the other side of that camera. One can almost feel him looking through the movie screen, searching for the kind of people who will eventually frequent "art houses" to watch films about things that should be read in books.

Just when it appears that everything is getting too weird, Ginsberg returns. Wrapped in a blanket and looking so much like his Dantaen counterpart, he glides through the early morning light of New York -- with lines of his poetry materializing on a nearby movie marquee. July 10, 2002

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