Roxploitation
We called them roxploitation movies. Not Elvis,
Elvis was a genre to himself, though sharing
some motifs. I’m talking movies that had
Rock in the title, in which by a mistake explained
in an early scene, some hot act like Little Richard
gets booked to some society soiree where they’re
expecting Lester Lanin
(you don’t remember
Lester? Think Lawrence Welk for 20-somethings,
even teens—yes!—who reached our teens sans
anthems of our own, listening to music only when
our parents did—yes! I did say “our,” I do include
myself, the first album I ever bought was Carousel,
then Glenn Miller, Louis Armstrong. I was 40+ records
into my first, carefully indexed box of 45s before ever
I heard Ray Charles, and never was the same again.)
But I was talking roxploitation movies, the shock
on dowagers’ faces when first they glimpse
the musicians, the casual verbal misconnect
when the Margaret Dumont character is nonplussed
by teen slang that had already left the building
a year before this movie hit the theaters
always as the front end of a double bill—
with some Kirk Douglas movie maybe;
I got my first kiss after Man Without a Star.
In roxploitation movies, when Little Richard began
assaulting the piano, the cameras would play first
over aghast faces of august revelers in their ball gowns
and their tuxes, then to their feet—till suddenly
one of those patent-leather-sporting toes would start
to tap, and back then to the faces, where one at a time
the shock is transmogrifying into pleasure—
like the face of the man in last week’s feature
who opened the door of the darkened room, hit
the light switch, and sixty-seven close friends yelled
“surprise!” Why does that never happen to me?
And before Little Richard’s halfway through
his first number, our socialites—because
this is what socialites do best—begin to dance,
clumsily at first, but soon with brio, as though
the music itself were all the instruction anyone
required, as though dowagers in ball gowns
and men in tuxes were born knowing all the moves,
they just don’t always know they know them.
And seeing this, the girl and boy are overjoyed—
always, there’s a girl and boy, and plot demands
that they have something noble, something
worthy, riding on this event, the mortgage
on mom’s house, a little brother’s operation—this
couple we’ve watched meet so cute that we’re
aware that they’re the pair that we’re supposed to
care about to make the happy ending happy—
don’t get me wrong, I do not say these films
were formulaic, just there seemed to be
an unwritten rule that every such film had
to have a scene like this, and pretty early on.
I wonder could a film be made today
the other way around: take, say, a roomful of
young people, not—of course—in fancy dress,
in the basement or the back room of a club,
and maybe there for something other than music,
dancing; let’s say they’re there for—oh, let’s make it
poetry. But a kind of poetry that’s their own anthems,
all angst and anger, what’s wrong with
a society that has no place for me;
wrong with the lover who dumped me?
Was that outrageous or what?
And let’s suppose that into this room walks—
just for the sake of argument, stay with me here--
walks this old man, and sort of shambles
to the mike, and he having been, up to this moment ,
invisible to them, the kids all look at him and wonder,
“Where did he come from?” and, “Does he even
know where he is?” And it’s as if
someone had just held up the sign,
“And now for something completely different;”
ignoring or not knowing the unwritten rules
he talks of things they’ve thought, but never thought
to talk about, things they knew, but didn’t know
they knew.
And, no, the young faces in that room
would never be aghast, exactly, but as
the cameras played over them, the polite
blankness, mere tolerance in those faces
might change, first to casual curiosity, then
gradually to something else, something more
engaged, and though we cannot see whether
toes are tapping and we presume not, still,
there is, yes, there is some movement
here and there as heads begin to nod
and maybe, at the end, applause is real,
from the heart.
And having asked myself whether such a
exploitation film could be made, and answered,
for a dozen reasons, No, I think to myself,