Psych-Out (Richard Rush, 1968)

Authentic hippie culture shot through an unfiltered lens, Psych-Out is a dandyish look-see into the lackadaisical head space of Haight-Ashbury, the grooviest intersection in all of San Francisco. Rife with furry vests, cannabis, pantless women, multicoloured headbands, irregular facial hair, and beads, the residents of this illuminated district bob and weave through life as if they're changing the world. But it seems that no one has told them that there's an army of belligerent squares waiting out in the wilderness to stomp their grass stained asses. You see, the militaristic aura that imbued the bulk of the twentieth century was more pronounced than the hippies anticipated, and defeating this warlike attitude through songs about mushroom pillows and canceled barber appointments was obviously doomed to fail. In fact, the veterans of these many conflicts were so attached to their military-style haircuts, that just the mere sight of a long-haired human male repulsed them. The characters that populate this slacker sanctuary are under the illusion that their safe to philosophize and hypothesize 'til the swamp is dry, but what they don't realize is that reality is dangerous and that their burgeoning existence isn't being dug by everyone. The perpetual clash between flower power values and the buttoned-down, fiscally responsible majority of the United States of America circa 1968 is touched on every now and then in this Richard Rush directed oddity. However, the main focus of the piece is centered on a deaf runaway named Jenny Davis (Susan Strasberg) and her desire to locate her brother Steve (Bruce Dern), a crazed artist known as "The Seeker." Helping the hard of hearing gal are the members of a psychedelic rock band called Mumblin' Joe. Particularly accommodative is their leader, Stoney (Jack Nicholson), who facilitates the wide-eyed imps transition into the hippie fold.

They also get advice from the reclusive Dave (a beautifully calm Dean Stockwell), a kind of lethargic shaman. Imparting wisdom like a baked sage, the plainspoken Dave sends the acid rockers and their shapely acquaintance in the right direction. Of course, they'll have to rumble with a gang of junkyard employees (Max "The Mack" Julien fights while high and imagines himself a noble knight), partake in a mock funeral (garage hipsters The Seed serenade the proceedings), and headline a gig with the totally awesome Strawberry Alarm Clock, before they can lay their eyes on The Seeker. But who said being a hippie didn't require making sacrifices? Actually, I might have said that. But then again, my donuts might be laced with LSD.

Trippy without being irritating, stylish without being incoherent, Psych-Out is a deceptively demure look at hippies in their natural habitat. The gorgeous outsider played by the insanely attractive Miss Strasberg is the perfect fish to help the non-hippie audience manouevre through this bathing lax subculture. A ponytail sporting Jack Nicholson, while unconvincing whilst holding a guitar, came off as moderately competent when came to making goo goo with his lovely co-star.
The complete opposite of the character he played in The Trip, Bruce Dern is an unhinged delight as The Seeker (I wonder if that was his real hair) and future suave fucker Dean Stockwell was righteously cool as Dave (I loved his composer under pressure).

The real star, however, was the dreamy music of Strawberry Alarm Clock. Even though they only appear briefly (they perform "Rainy Day Mushroom Pillow"), their music seems to permeate the film like a flighty head cold. Sure, I've heard "Incense and Peppermint" used in countless films and television shows over the years, but to hear it in an actual film from the period was a bit of a minor treat. Besides, I much preferred the way their little heard "The Pretty Song" was utilized. It opens the film and is played again during a love-making montage, and is a gentle ditty that caused part of my spirit to soar.

video uploaded by Welcome to the Sideshow!

...