MUSIC ART FASHION CULTURE
In The Primal Hour: Brief Written Musings on the Road Film
Words by Django Nicol
IN MY PRIMAL HOUR, MY SALVADORE IS NOT HERE WITH ME.
I WILL TREAD ALONG THE DESIRE PATH SINGULARLY.
THE LIGHT DOES NOT SHINE TOWARDS THE BODY BUT RATHER DIRECTS FROM WITHIN.
––In recent times, I’ve found it an important task for myself to identify pillars that speak to my perception of the idealised human experience. Since they bear repeating, many of these have alchemised into mantras. I’ve been a firm believer, since I heard the song “Bedtime Story” by Madonna, that words are in fact quite liminal and loose within their meaning. As such, I’ve found words to be an ideal medium in bringing forth ‘the play’, that many creatives speak of, and in turn, foster the activation of these pillars.
‘In My Primal Hour’ is one of the last mantras I deduced a few months ago, as an emblem of the pillar that is our/your/my free will. Primal means original, or of first importance. The way I interpret ‘primal’, as a sensation, is through a raw, animalistic, embodied expression of oneself.
Taking full agency over this vessel of ours – mind, gut, skin and bone.
I was recently listening to an interview with horsegiirL, in which she spoke on the notion of escapism within the current societal landscape. She stated the simple idea that we are not obliged to accept current conditions of life, despite how premeditated and out of our control they seem. This is where she highlights escapism as a beneficial role-player in imagining alternative futures and reminding the audience that one has full agency (1). She makes a distinction between escapism and hedonism, which is a distinction that I recognise within this mantra. To be attuned to deeper, more guttural expressions does not equate to being tapped out. In fact you are probably more tapped in by doing so. And this feels like a sensation we are actively being taught to suppress.
The road film is an epitomised expression of the primal hour. As a loose genre of cinema, it typically explores a character/s that find themselves at a point of tension in their life. A point between holding it all together or letting it all unravel. Where their primal self is activated and their perspective of the world is questioned. The road acts as the channel that allows both the escape and the discovery. The genre itself, is a compelling framework to ask questions of existence and to ponder on the nuances of the human condition.
As someone who is often caught up in contemplating – hence, the pillars – I have gravitated towards this genre for its possession of these brooding qualities. And this text is a reflection on these resonances. I do not have a question or an answer, but I do like to start conversations. So, I hope this lays the first stone, even if it is only with yourself.
‘In My Primal Hour’ is one of the last mantras I deduced a few months ago, as an emblem of the pillar that is our/your/my free will. Primal means original, or of first importance. The way I interpret ‘primal’, as a sensation, is through a raw, animalistic, embodied expression of oneself.
Taking full agency over this vessel of ours – mind, gut, skin and bone.
I was recently listening to an interview with horsegiirL, in which she spoke on the notion of escapism within the current societal landscape. She stated the simple idea that we are not obliged to accept current conditions of life, despite how premeditated and out of our control they seem. This is where she highlights escapism as a beneficial role-player in imagining alternative futures and reminding the audience that one has full agency (1). She makes a distinction between escapism and hedonism, which is a distinction that I recognise within this mantra. To be attuned to deeper, more guttural expressions does not equate to being tapped out. In fact you are probably more tapped in by doing so. And this feels like a sensation we are actively being taught to suppress.
The road film is an epitomised expression of the primal hour. As a loose genre of cinema, it typically explores a character/s that find themselves at a point of tension in their life. A point between holding it all together or letting it all unravel. Where their primal self is activated and their perspective of the world is questioned. The road acts as the channel that allows both the escape and the discovery. The genre itself, is a compelling framework to ask questions of existence and to ponder on the nuances of the human condition.
As someone who is often caught up in contemplating – hence, the pillars – I have gravitated towards this genre for its possession of these brooding qualities. And this text is a reflection on these resonances. I do not have a question or an answer, but I do like to start conversations. So, I hope this lays the first stone, even if it is only with yourself.
The Great Expanse | The Great Nothingness
The road speaks to a universality, as it is an open structure. Anyone can use it. Its function to facilitate a point of arrival – a destination – responds cunningly to someone who may be ‘lost’ and in need of somewhere to escape. However, what is particularly interesting about the role of the road within these films, is how it morphs into an abstracted provocation, catalysing the deeper feelings and conflicts at hand. Each traversed landscape becomes a new instigation to further push the psyche of each character. So, the road is at once a constant source of grounding, whilst also becoming completely liminal*.
The great expanse.
I was speaking to my friend, Lola Hewison – a deeply thought-provoking individual, who is also a filmmaker – about this idea of the road becoming a liminal space. She concurred by stating that in these films, everything becomes liminal. The hotel room, the petrol station, the car interior. These mundane spaces, that we all pass through transiently, start holding a certain magnetism. Through their banality, they become sacrosanct. And through this thinking, you realise that maybe the most minute of things can amount to be the most grandiose of experiences.
Perhaps this is one of the outcomes of the road film: the human need for liminality. As hyper-cognitive beings, is the transience necessary to reach pinnacles of self, internal discovery or enlightenment. The liminality reaches its apex, when the character(s), through the unremitting provocations, have unravelled every aspect of their life.
With nothing left to unravel they are met with exactly that. The great nothingness.
Everything is nothing and nothing is everything. The expansive landscape staring back at them. I do not want to claim that all road films set out to speak on ‘finding freedom’, but I do believe that notions of existentialism position themselves naturally in these films. Two films that exemplify this thinking are The Living End (1992) by Gregg Araki, and one of the most iconic road films of all time, Thelma & Louise (1991) by Ridley Scott.
* To clarify, liminal is used to describe something that sits at a threshold.
The Point of Motion | The Point of Stagnation
As the lanes of a highway run concurrently in separate directions, the road film accentuates our tendency for oppositions and contradictions. The essence of the road is in itself a display of industrialisation against the natural world. A concrete line intruding through a natural landscape, all in the name of ‘efficiency and progress’. Not to be self-righteous, as I use these infrastructures myself, and I cannot deny their benefits. Equally, I am entranced by the imagery of the highway – a contradiction unfolding as the words are being spelt out. But I do find it a point of constriction when this intrusion promotes a certain level of desecration. When century-old areas of flora are destroyed to cut seven minutes of travel time, it beckons the question of what truly is an ‘advancement’.
Considering the starting point of many road films is in a metropolitan region, and the motivation to set out onto the open road is due to a frustration, or degradation of the characters’ life within these urban landscapes, it further highlights this conversation of the environment affecting our dispositions. Is urban living more degrading than the rural? The cityscape, a supposed epicentre of advancement and motion, in reality being an incubator for feelings of stagnation. As historically nomadic beings, it is not farfetched to suppose that the structure of city living is not conducive to our primal tendencies. And in contrast, the road being a clear experience of motion, as the natural world unfolds in front of you, speaks to this tension within us.
Towards the end of my conversation with Lola, she drew an interesting parallel between road films and the earliest iterations of cinema. The first films made were simply concerned with capturing motion. Exploring this new technology that fundamentally spoke on the tension between movement and stagnation. The road film, being also concerned with this, then accentuates another duality – a through line of the past and the present.
As established, my definition of the primal hour is an embodied experience where one is very cognisant of their body being the vessel. It is not a switch-off of the mind though. It is rooted within the present, whilst also recognising what has come before and what has yet to pass. I describe it as psychedelic in nature. I also describe the road as psychedelic. And yes, psychedelia can very much take shape as something more desolate, or more simple, or more natural than the standard perception of this sensation. If we perceive the road as this broader overarching presence, it becomes the incantation of the primal hour. Its motion is a clear demonstration of the present time, as you watch the vast openness unfold.
Meanwhile the past flies directly behind you every metre you travel forward, and the future lies directly ahead, beyond the horizon line.
The primal self is perhaps drawn to the open road, as the open road reflects it right back – on an even larger scale. So, maybe next time you are on a long drive by yourself, take a second to absorb what is in front of you. Or perhaps, go on a road trip, to potentially ignite the primal hour.
As for the road film, it remains as an important exercise in bringing forth all the subtle complexities that make up the human experience. Our tendency for contradictions, our need for movement, our need for liminality, our need for change – and our need to sit at the fringe of our life experiences…to ponder about it all. It has been a leading framework in Tropic Line, my new body of work coming out in October, and it has been a pleasure outlining some of the ideas in this musing.
I am aware I did not highlight many films in this piece, as I was more concerned in expressing my overall feelings towards the genre. But if you want somewhere to start with road films, here are a few of my favourites: Thelma & Louise (1991) by Ridley Scott – obviously, the aforementioned The Living End (1992) by Gregg Araki, and another Araki, The Doom Generation (1995), and Broken Flowers (2005) by Jim Jarmusch. I am more interested in the ones that hold a moodier sentiment, but I realise there are multitudes of ways of making a road film. I am excited to dive deeper into Wim Wenders’ films as well as Kelly Reichardt’s. The last one I watched was Transamerica (2005) by Duncan Tucker.
I also want to take this moment, as I wrap up, to thank my beautiful friend Lola for getting into this deeper thinking with me. When I set out to write this musing, I had not anticipated the level of difficulty it would be to get access to essays and more analytically written pieces, as a non-uni student. So it has definitely become more of an opinion piece. But, as much as published works and pieces are beneficial to analytical writing, it definitely does not quite reach some of the same depths as sharing and learning from someone in person. So again, thank you Lola. Thank you Ellie. And thank you reader.