You've seen the kid with the long hair who's told 'cut it', and won't. And then there's a misunderstanding like the one in the story of Alice's Restaurant, where it's a weird downward spiral where garbage, the law, and Vietnam get intertwined. The actual dramatization of the events that are detailed in the now traditional Thanksgiving album (only because, I guess, Arlo is having Thanksgiving dinner at Alice's) is about as faithful as imaginable, but I'd say the scenes earlier on, when Arlo has just come into town and isn't able to really stay at any pad for too long due to his long hair and his inability to conform to playing music right in classes. These are subtle jabs at the outcast of the times- not simply as a 'hippie', as Arlo Guthrie is a little too folksy to be a typical hippie, albeit not too far removed for Woodstock- and as a mostly one-sided take on the issue of the 'hippies', it doesn't demonize one side, while not making bones about showing the upright citizens as those who are close-minded.
Filled with some great tunes, and an attitude to film-making by Arthur Penn that reflects its creator in a somewhat lighter, though no less socially conscious mind-set than Bonnie & Clyde (except less disguised), Alice's Restaurant is imperfect entertainment and a glimpse of the period that will appeal to anyone at all interested or remember all-too-well the socio-political troubles. It's a capsule, but not too shabby with age; plays probably as the first side of a double-billing with 1969's Easy Rider.
Filled with some great tunes, and an attitude to film-making by Arthur Penn that reflects its creator in a somewhat lighter, though no less socially conscious mind-set than Bonnie & Clyde (except less disguised), Alice's Restaurant is imperfect entertainment and a glimpse of the period that will appeal to anyone at all interested or remember all-too-well the socio-political troubles. It's a capsule, but not too shabby with age; plays probably as the first side of a double-billing with 1969's Easy Rider.