Exiles on Main Street

Kent Mackenzie's The Exiles is one of the most compelling films I have seen in quite some time. 

The black and white photography of downtown Los Angeles in the early 1960's evokes a kinship to Orson Welles' famous treatment of the Venice Beach area in "Touch of Evil" made just a few years earlier. 

But Welles' fluid crane shots and stylized approach to his noir story give way here to a more documentary vernacular and quotidian narrative; the group of unforgettable characters that comprise this subculture of displaced American Indians living as a minority underclass in the shadow of Angel's Flight and old Bunker Hill are treated to an intimate, relaxed, slacker portrait that might have influenced Jim Jarmusch.

 

The film has a beautifully simple story line, following a small group of men and women over one single night of drinking and partying, with some of the characters winding up at a drunken, ritualistic gathering of cars and booze and girls and drums and tribal chants on what they refer to as "Hill X", overlooking the old downtown skyline dominated by the outline of City Hall made famous in Jack Webb's "Dragnet".

 

The final image of the male revelers and their pick-up dates at dawn walking noisily down the alley between decrepit buildings in this soon-to-be-extinct neighborhood, while left-behind Mary bears witness as she waits alone in her small bedroom is heartbreaking, as are many other moments in this authentic film crafted over several years and based on extensive interviews with the real people playing themselves on screen.

The independent film never got a theatrical release despite critical praise and festival attention back in 1961 (boy, does that sound very familiar these days), but you can see it now on DVD.

Once you do, you will never forget it.

william

Comments

[Diane]

Looks like the early great films of Italian Neo-Realism. Pasolini. Los Olvidados. And others. Such a revelation when I first saw them. I will try to rent.

[Janet M]

I really enjoyed this film. Native Americans are practically invisible in the movies, except as villains in old westerns. I loved westerns as a child, because as an urban Indian, it was the only image of Natives available. I saw Irene Bedard at March Pow-Wow this year flogging dvd's of her movies. It's sad that she doesn't have more work. If Natives are rare in movies, urban Indians are even rarer, which made this movie a great treat.