It is Impossible to Learn to Plow by Reading Books
(1988)
"A Boy and His Camera" or "Portrait
of the Filmmaker as a Young Man"
Richard Linklater made a name for
himself with "Slacker" in 1991, an irreverent and
cerebral look at life in Austin (reflecting life in
general). Embraced by film fanatics and buoyed by
the burgeoning popularity of indie films in the early
90's, Linklater went on to be one of the most successful
independent filmmakers of the last 12 years creating
artistic, humorous and important films that wavered
between the commercial mainstream and higher cinematic
consciousness.
Prior to all of this was a little
student film he made on Super 8 with the impractical
protracted title "It is Impossible to Learn to Plow
by Reading Books." Since Linklater is so widely known
and yet very few people have had an opportunity, thus
far, to see the film, I thought a little synopsis
might be in order. (Dear reader, this is also known
as a SPOILER ALERT!)
The film is sparse, arid and slowly
paced. In the manner that "Slacker" was verbose, "IIITLTPBRB"
is quiet. There is so little dialogue here that it
is practically a silent film. With Super 8 having
such notable and consistent sync sound problems, Linklater
wisely overcomes this problem by using "wild sound"
and ambient sound as well as conceived sound (audio
that isn't designed to sync up with moving lips).
In doing this, Linklater still has a "sound" film
but it also becomes artistic and unique.
The plot here is almost nonexistent.
Linklater plays the main character and is on screen
alone for most of the film's 90 minute run time. (He's
only 19 or 20 or so and he looks really cute. He's
got a wonderful 80's shag haircut and spends some
time in the film shirtless). He hangs out in his house
(an obviously downtown Austin older house with hardwood
floors, perhaps a duplex), listens to an audio tape
where his friend talks about how things are in Missoula
(Montana). He cooks some food, goes to the store and
seems bored. At one point in this lackadaisical summer
he picks up rifle and fires a shot out the window.
He rides a train (nearly 10 minutes
of film featuring Linklater on a train with the clackety-clack
noise of a moving train for sound) to Missoula, hangs
out with his friend, shoots pool, meets a girl and
rents some videos. He rides the train down to San
Francisco and then back home (another 10 minutes or
so of film with the clackety-clack noise of a moving
train for sound). He meets a girl at a train station
and in the next scene leaves a note on her baggage
as she sleeps. He disappears back into night.
He comes home, listens to another
audio tape from his friend and makes a few calls.
He meets a guy on the street who asks him what his
shirt says (it's the title of the film in Russian)
and then gives him an audio tape saying he "collects"
sounds. He goes home and listens to the tape.
He drives to his parent's house
and constantly tunes around the radio dial as he drives.
He watches TV and flips through the channels repeatedly.
He watches a clip from a black and white foreign film
(I'm no scholar but it seemed like a Bergman film
to me) where a lady and man have a discussion about
how life is just a dream. His car breaks down. He
gets it worked on. He has dinner with his family (the
camera sits in the corner and eavesdrops on their
somewhat racist dialogue concerning Italians). He
mails a letter and goes outside. He walks off from
the camera down an Austin street while a street musician
sings a song. The End. All of this lasts an excruciating
90 minutes. And I really enjoyed it.
For one thing, the film has a real
meditative quality. Its sense of ennui is realistic
and treated with just the right amount of sincerity.
Linklater's student film may be pretentious but it
truly represents exactly what it must have been like
to be Richard Linklater, college student, in 1988.
For fans of the filmmaker, it's almost like watching
his home movies.
"Rick," as we in Austin like to
call him, introduced the film at the screening I attended
but didn't do a Q&A afterward therefore much of my
impressions of how he made the film can only be conjecture.
Most of the shots are static, presumably shot from
a tripod that sits very low to the ground. It often
seems like Linklater set up the shot, turned on the
camera, recorded the scene and then edited out the
part where her runs back to turn off the camera. I
wouldn't be surprised if he shot most of the footage
himself with no crew. Yet this simple device gives
the film a unique style and point of view. (Granted
a part of the fun of watching the film now is trying
to figure out just how it was made).
Another joy for Linklater fans is
how "IIITLTPBRB" anticipates "Slacker." Linklater
seems to have the same love for the city that he had
in his next film. But here, rather than presenting
us with its eclectic inhabitants, he shows us just
how lonely it is and how easily it is to get lost
in the solitude of being a young man, living apart
from your parents, and having friends who have moved
far away. Still, Linklater's love of the city and
its small town, folksy feel emanates from many of
the scenes here, including the opening shots in his
dingy duplex.
This film also reflects how Rick
is a traveler and a listener. Although "Slacker" and
"Waking Life" are very verbose films, Linklater is
seldom on screen doing the talking. He arrives on
a bus (or is it a train) in "Slacker" as if he were
coming back into town from making "IIITLTPBRB." (I
wished it ended with him on a bus in the way that
"Slacker" starts with him getting off one). Linklater
only creates such wonderful dialogue and verbose moments
on screen because he is such a good listener. My friend
John Christensen, who played the Social Lubricator
in "Waking Life," told me that he and Rick (as John
called him) sat down and discussed his dialogue and
improvised some stuff before the movie began. And
when he came back a few days later to get his part
of the script, Rick had written his dialogue based
on those conversations. "IIITLTPBRB" shows just how
important sound is to Linklater, whether it is the
spoken word or the clickety-clack of a train moving.
There is also a scene in the film
where Linklater plays pinball that foreshadows the
climax in "Waking Life" to eerie effect. It's as if
Rick is waiting at just that moment for Wiley to show
up and start asking him his questions as he does some
13 years later. On film, Linklater is now perpetually
suspended in time playing pinball, something that
must surely fill him with joy.
The film is called "It is Impossible
to Learn to Plow by Reading Books" for an obvious
reason. What Linklater is really saying is, "It is
Impossible to Learn how to Make a Film without Making
a Film." This first student film he made shows the
lesson. The body of his work shows that he learned
his lesson well.
Notes:
Linklater apparently edited the
film at the cable access studios here in Austin.
The title is described as a Russian
proverb by Linklater in the film. The blurb in the
Austin Chronicle for the showing of the film I saw
says the title is based on a Butch Hancock song.
Although first showed at SXSW in
1994, their first year, the film was completed in
1988 and, presumably, had had a few showings prior
to that.
Viewed in March 2003 at the SXSW
Film Festival.
