Gimme Shelter (1970)

The Rolling Stones had an excellent 1969 with “Let it Bleed” and a tour that brought in Ike and Tina Turner, but all that good will and good weed and good sex flamed out at the FUBAR free concert at Altamont in San Francisco. Thousands of drugged-out hippies clashed with drugged-out Hell’s Angels, who the Stones foolishly paid for security, and wild mayhem ensued. Murders, too. Doc-maker brothers Albert and David Maysles and their crew literally *filmed* a man being stabbed to death, the mayhem so wild, they didn’t know it at the time. The Stones – Jagger, Richards, etc. – don’t say much, but they don’t have to. A “fan” punched Jagger in the face before he ever got on stage. Members of Jefferson Airplane were attacked by Angles, too drugged out to realize the warm-up band on stage belonged on the stage. The entire film is vibes raw, from early-69 studio recordings to the Stones fleeing the stage, terrified. A

The Phantom Tollbooth (1969)

I am a rabid Chuck Jones fan. There was or is no better animator, with Jones even surpassing Miyazaki and Disney in my book. No man has better drawn the way a dog stretches under a back scratch, or how any being –- man or beast -– can toss an askew glance at a Murphy moment of despair. So when I sat for Jones’ celebrated full-length “The Phantom Tollbooth,” I wanted to bask in childhood glory. Damn. This tale of a snotty child (Butch Patrick, Eddie of “The Munsters”) who drives a magical kiddie car through a magical tollbooth from live-action San Francisco into an animated world, is not just sparkless, it’s a text book lesson in how not to entertain children. It’s devastatingly preachy with slimy goblins warning of the dangers of doldrums, and kings and fairies warning of the sin of using too many words, or not enough, and watch your posture, and don’t complain! Well, I shall, thank you. Remember how cool those “School of Rock” shorts were? This is School of Impatience. The basic plot -– two kingdoms of letters and numbers are at war –- provides endless possibilities, and demands a smarter remake. C+

Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice (1969)

Relatively tame now, when “Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice” debuted, it caused a shit storm of controversy that caught flak from the religious right because it dared dived into the then-taboo subjects of free-love,  open marriage, and recreational drug use, and did so as a comedy satire with a take it or leave it judgment card at the end. I daresay few of these critics even saw the film, but panned it eyes closed. In truth, this is an often hilarious blast at both the conservative and liberal divide, with the left actually taking the bigger punch as married Bob and Carol (Robert Culp and Natalie Wood) each take on lovers and suck longtime pals Ted and Alice (Elliott Gould and Dyan Cannon) into their “don’t think, just feel” bed-hopping circle. There’s no LOL scenes of slapstick comedy, just the constantly awkward chortling of watching fools run themselves sideways because they’re afraid to not do so, to not get angry, and to not babble on amok about “honesty” as it were alien. Gould standouts as one very hopeless dope who cannot win, ever. B+

The Rain People (1969)

Francis Ford Coppola’s “The Rain People” is a low-budget, outside-the-system film at its best: Brave, as uncomfortable as any harsh truth, and against the set codes of American-GOP-approved rules. It’s a must-watch companion to fellow “F.U.” road picture “Easy Rider” as it follows a conflicted housewife named Natalie (Shirley Knight, raw with emotion) as she runs away from home in -– of all things -– a station wagon. Natalie is newly pregnant and scared of the responsibility. She is consumed by how to carry on, or not. Coppola wisely allows Natalie to stay conflicted, notably speaking of herself in the third person. She -– purposefully unwise -– picks up a hitchhiker, a college footballer dropout (James Caan, excellent) waylaid by a devastating injury to his brain. The two wonder mostly, finding an America beautiful and patriotic, and yet corrupt and uncaring. Deeply poignant, beautifully written, and often purposefully infuriating, “Rain” provides a shot of truth about the lies we tell ourselves and others, boasting of false joy or denying our lost happiness. The movie’s stark ending is as harsh as life’s crueler turns, as it must be. Awesome credit: A guy named George Lucas is listed as production assistant. “Rain” deserves more celebration. A

Men in Black 3 (2012)

All time travel plots defy logic: If you go back in time to kill Hitler as a child, the absence of an adult Hitler will negate the need to jump back, which means Hitler will rise. But we still love the idea, right? “Men in Black 3” adds a time travel trick hat to its black suits, ties and sunglasses, and the effort further tarnishes the first outing about top secret agents K (Tommy Lee Jones) and J (Will Smith) and a secret police force that patrols alien life on Earth. Here, an old nemesis of K’s jumps back to 1969 to kill him as part of an elaborate revenge tactic. In present day NYC, Agent K is dead 43 years, and only J inexplicably remembers him. So back J goes to save K. Ill-conceived from first frame to last, nothing makes sense, not even on the wide girth of a summer flick about aliens, ray guns, Andy Warhol, and moon prisons. The chemistry between Smith and Jones is shit, derailed by Jones’ pained disinterest. Huge props to Josh Brolin as a young K, nailing a TLJ impression so dead-on it deserves its own film, not this crap sequel. C+

True Grit (1969)

Sometimes the remake is better. Take “True Grit,” the beloved John Wayne Western, with The Duke as U.S. Marshal Rueben “Rooster” J. Coburn, the one-eyed crusty, drunken, quick-draw bounty hunter who is hired by a 14-year-old girl to capture her father’s killer. If I ever saw this version in its entirety before, I can’t recall.

The verdict on the 1969 bag of oats: Eh. No, really, eh. This “Grit” follows the same plot as the 1968 book and 2010 script, and is likewise more interested in character study than who did what to whom. But it has that studio-controlled, scrubbed-clean sheen that kills so many period pieces of older Hollywood epics. Y’know – men ride in the wilderness for days on end, and still sport freshly pressed clean clothes. No dirt to be found. Yeah, it works in a live-action cartoon such as Errol Flynn’s “Robin Hood.” But not here. It’s a glaring fault, as clueless as the studio lighting during the “night” scenes.

As a star, Wayne is always magnetic. But the man always also has just one speed, blow-hard tough guy, and there’s just no texture there. Ever. As the teen, Kim Darby is truly great in body language and voice, but she looks every day of her (then) 20-plus years. As a Texas Ranger, singer Glen Campbell is an embarrassment. He cranks out his lines as if he’s auditioning for the part.

There’s much great humor and some subtext here, apparently taken from Portis’ book, but any human grit or frailty is buried under painfully upbeat music and that aw-shucks squeaky-clean smile optimism that many conservatives (read the “American Spectator” review) point to and say, “See! America was really like that!” And I call it bullshit make-believe, rose-tinted Santa Claus and Peter Pan fantasies.

The 2010 Coens-Jeff Bridges remake is better acted, darker, more wickedly funnier and grittier in every way. It comes closer to the Truth. I bet the Wayne version felt old upon release. Am I un-American? Eh. Original version: C+

Easy Rider (1969)

Oh, to have been alive and seen "Easy Rider" when it first was released in 1969. It must have thrashed the establishment of the era and re-set the clock on filmmaking, like "Pulp Fiction" did for my generation in 1994.
More so. I can't say, I was born five years after this film's release. Nonetheless, this is a beautiful, disturbing film that can be debated as an ode to ultimate freedom or condemned as a celebration of drugs and decadence. You pick.

Dennis Hopper directs and co-stars as Billy, a wild, uneasy and seemingly frantic hippie who sets out on a trip from California to New Orleans on his motorcycle. Along for the ride is the star of this film, the brilliant, mesmerizing Peter Fonda as "Captain America," a fellow pot-smoking hippie who seems to truly understand freedom and the notion of living for the moment. Where Billy is hyper, the Cap is the essence of cool, the essence of respect and the essence of treating others as you'd want to be treated.

Yes, Christian beliefs are brought into this film and I think handled beautifully. Fonda is the soul of this film. "Rider" raises a great question -- Is America truly a free country, where everyone can live in harmony? The ending tells you the answer. This is a classic film, with top notch cinematography, one of the best soundtracks ever produced and top-notch acting. It's the start of the lens flare, too. Jack Nicholson, of course, has a supporting role as a lawyer turned onto the wavelength of the then-new generation. Sadly, it's gone. A+