 DVD Review
The
Pink Angels
(1971)
Directed by Lawrence Brown
From Drive-In
Cult Classics: Volume 3
Navarre Corporation, 2008
Matthew Kiesner
Very little
has been written about The Pink Angels (Lawrence Brown, 1971), mostly due to its limited distribution. Thanks to a release on the Drive-In Cult Classics: Volume 3 DVD box
set, fans can now discover a film that has been relegated to a footnote in studies
of the bikesploitation film genre. The Pink Angels is an example
of the outlaw biker film’s decent into parody and crosspollination with other
genres, in this case “gaysploitation.” While this is true, explaining The
Pink Angels only in terms of genre does not capture how bizarre and unique
this film is as a cultural document of the early 1970s. Watching The Pink Angels is a confounding experience, as the film
continually thwarts its own themes and ideology. While some scenes contain a stark and minimalist realism,
other scenes revel in lowbrow humor and blatant stereotypes. This makes it a particularly difficult
text to master, since it contains contradictory information throughout.
The Pink Angels follows the episodic road movie
structure as six bikers journey across the Southwest towards Los Angeles. The twist is that they are all gay drag
queens whose final destination is a drag ball. The gang picks up a hitchhiker who eventually realizes the
persuasion of the gang during a limp-wristed food fight. They then encounter police, who are too
shocked by the discovery of their drag attire to arrest them. Their journey intertwines with that of
a straight biker gang (including a pre-Grizzly
Adams Dan Haggerty) with whom they party and eventually prank, applying
make-up to the straight bikers while they are passed-out. This non-consensual makeover enrages
the straight biker gang who follow the Angels to seek revenge. When the Pink Angels reach Los Angeles,
they shop for new clothes and change into drag. The straight gang encounters the “ladies” in a bar and
unbelievably do not recognize them. They decide to go out on a date and proceed towards a private party, a
doomed decision that leads to one of the most shocking endings in this genre’s
history.
Intercut
throughout the film are scenes of a military general in a mansion/compound,
discussing plans with his secretary. The film’s final scene reveals that the party is at the general’s
mansion and is a set-up by the military to infiltrate subversive biker
gangs. One of the bikers reveals
his true gender, which, as expected, upsets the general. In the last shot of the film, every member
of both biker gangs is hanged from a tree in front of the general’s mansion--a
gloomy end to an otherwise playful film.
The ending is
simultaneously unexpected yet predictable. Within the logic of the plot, the conclusion is a complete
surprise, as there is no plausible connection between the military and the
bikers. Furthermore, why the
military would be interested is entirely far-fetched, since domestic crime
would be a matter for the FBI. Yet, within the biker genre, it makes perfect sense that the
protagonists would meet an unfortunate end thanks to the fatalistic precedent
set by Easy Rider. Although the causality is suspect, it
also connects with the cliché of the tragic homosexual that was the norm for
gay characters at the time. On the
most pragmatic level, the film needed an ending, and murdering all the
protagonists certainly creates closure.
The close of The Pink Angels is indicative of the
inconsistencies throughout the film that teeter between spontaneity and
carelessness. Some of the scenes,
especially out in rural areas, are quite nicely arranged. Early on, the gang travels past
sections of concrete tubing, stored out in the desert. The film takes time to create dramatic
use of the cylinders in the composition. Yet many of the scenes of the bikers riding through the stark desert
landscape of Southern California are marred by the use of voice-over. This is particularly evident with the
lame, comedic voice-over added during the police chase, which plays on every
“cop versus biker” stereotype one can imagine. This contrast also occurs during the party between the two
groups of bikers. Most of the
scene is shot with a handheld camera that effectively involves viewers in the
reverie. It cuts away to a love
scene, with a biker, previously believed to be gay, saying to a female
companion, “Would you like ten pounds of dangling fury?” The voice is clearly not that of the
same actor and the confusion between pounds and inches means the scene devolves
into inept nonsense.
Perhaps this stylistic
inconsistency is reflective of the meshing of two relatively new subcultures
whose only parallel is a refusal to conform. Yet, the film does not seem to understand either culture at
all and certainly does a poor job of blending gay and biker iconography. They are named the Pink Angels only in
the film title and, within the film, do not seem to
function as a proper motorcycle club. Besides using motorcycles—each
having a sidecar in order to pair the gang’s three couples—and the
wearing of insignia-embossed denim, there is no attempt to expand upon the
outlaw or outsider identity of the biker. Why someone chooses to take up a nomadic life on two wheels is never
addressed. The Pink Angels has even less understanding of homosexuality or
transgender issues. The biker
genre was well established by 1971. However, openly gay characters were only beginning to emerge from the
cinematic shadows. Perhaps because
of the novelty of gay and cross-dressing characters, the film confuses gender
and sexuality into a truly baffling mess. The most perplexing moment occurs during the party between the two biker
gangs. One of the Angels goes to
get several local prostitutes that they had met earlier in the film. Upon returning, some of the “gay”
bikers engage in fornication with these ladies. The film does not attempt to reconcile this interaction,
leaving audiences to ponder what to make of their sexuality.
It is
unfortunate that The Pink Angels has
received so little critical analysis, because its beguiling nature is the
reason that the film is of interest. Trash cinema often treads that thin line between eccentric style and
inept malfunction and much of the genre criticism is devoted to delineating
that distinction. A film like The Pink Angels is illuminating because
of its muddled presentation of gay bikers and its cinematic aesthetic. Sometimes the only conclusion is that a
film can be simultaneously inspired and terrible.
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