Allen Ginsberg's poem "Howl" and the obscenity trial that surrounded it helped shape America's attitudes toward censorship. Directors Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman's latest film, "Howl," draws upon records of these court proceedings, interviews and scholarly research to produce a dramatized retelling of the story in a compelling biopic of Ginsberg.
James Franco plays the famed beat poet with uncanny precision, deftly mimicking his wistful mannerisms and his distinctive speech patterns. The supporting cast includes Jon Hamm as Jake Ehlrich, Ginsberg's lawyer, and Mary−Louise Parker in a cameo role.
People going to "Howl" expecting the usual celebrity biopic fare will probably be disappointed. Hollywood's recent string of musician biopics has steered the genre toward sensational tales of life on the road, usually with copious amounts of drugs and sex in tow.
What "Howl" lacks in visceral punch is more than made up for by its unique pacing and scope. Rather than paint a broad portrait of Ginsberg's life from beginning to end, Epstein and Friedman focus on the years that surround "Howl's" publication.
The drama itself unfolds slowly, usually through dramatized re−enactments of interviews with Ginsberg. For the majority of the film, Franco sits on a couch with a lit cigarette, recounting his university days at Columbia and his formative years as a poet. Because of this, "Howl" lacks a conventional story arc. Though one could say the verdict of the trial is the film's climax, it feels more like a gradual affirmation of the preceding themes than a bombastic declaration of them.
The brilliance of Franco's performance lies in his ability to capture Ginsberg's personality so subtly that the audience never wants him to leave the couch. Although parts of Ginsberg's road days are chronicled, the setting of the film remains firmly rooted in New York City.
Occasional shifts between the court case and Ginsberg's interview occur only for variety. The script does call for some heavy acting from Franco in a handful of scenes, but his role demands more of a subtle and internalized performance rather than an active one. Franco brilliantly handles this dynamic, conveying the richness of Ginsberg's own contemplations without relying on hyperbole or pretension.
The court scenes in "Howl" reflect a similar dynamic. They mostly detail cross−examinations of various university professors arguing for the merit or depravity of Ginsberg's poem. Jon Hamm plays Ehlrich with understated poise; he playfully alternates between passive listener and aggressive cross−examiner, giving the impression that every other question contains some clever trick. The moments when Ehlrich manages to trip up the haughtiest English professors are among the most satisfying in the film.
Friedman and Epstein splice the court and interview scenes with footage of Franco reading "Howl" in a Greenwich Village poetry club. Franco's delivery of the poem is superb. Unfortunately, these scenes also contain the worst moments of the film.
Rather than place the audience members within the atmosphere Ginsberg and his audience were experiencing, Friedman and Epstein segue into long animated sequences that try to visualize the imagery of the poem.
Over the course of the film, the audience is treated to images of a computer−generated version of beat poet Neal Cassidy having sex inside a comet, figures groveling through snow leaving bloody shoeprints and stoic protagonists fending off stereotypical Wall Street automatons. Instead of adding insight to the poem, these efforts come off as feeling tired and pretentious.
Even though these sequences undermine the aesthetic of the film, they hardly damage the script or the strength of the performances.
For those interested in Ginsberg or the beat generation, this film will provide an interesting back−story that will enrich future readings of the poem. For those who aren't familiar with Ginsberg or "Howl," this film is a great place to start.
