Revisiting Ken Kesey's Drugged-Out 'Magic Trip'

A conversation with the makers of a new documentary about the seminal bus voyage

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Joe Mabel / Wikicommons

Until now, Tom Wolfe’s The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test has been the definitive depiction of the famous school bus trip across America taken by Ken Kesey and his Merry Pranksters in 1964.

But there’s a worthy companion piece to Wolfe’s seminal work of new journalism: Magic Trip, a new documentary entirely comprised of little-seen contemporaneous 16mm footage and audio recordings by Kesey and the Pranksters.

Meticulously restored and put together by filmmakers Alison Ellwood and Alex Gibney, without relying on the crutch of perspective from contemporary talking heads, the film presents the LSD-loving pioneers who spawned ’60s counterculture in their own words and images. In an email exchange, Elliwood and Gibney, an occasional contributor to The Atlantic, offer their thoughts on the project.


What inspired you to take on the daunting challenge of making this film?

Alison Ellwood: We first heard about the footage when we read an article by Robert Stone in The New Yorker. Once we saw the footage, it was a no brainer. No one had ever seen most of this material. Something about it spoke to me — pulled me into it.

Alex Gibney: The footage — the idea that there was so much footage and that it might be used to create a kind of archival vérité portrait of this mythic moment.

What can we stand to learn from Ken Kesey and the Merry Pranksters? What makes them relevant today?

AG: This is a tough question. In some ways, Kesey and the Pranksters are hard to remove from their time. The year the bus trip was taken — 1964 — was a year with one foot in the ’50s and one foot in the ’60s to come. Kesey himself felt that the trip might be a kind of agent provocateur for those along the side of the road who were consumed by fear (the shadow of the bomb, the McCarthy era and the recent assassination of John F. Kennedy). He believed in magic and in a definitively American yearning for freedom. That's part of what the bus trip was about: a siren's song to those strapped to the mast to come out and play. Of course, in Greek mythology, the sweet sound of the sirens caused many ships to run aground on the rocks. So too, the freedoms of the ’60s can seem a kind of lunacy today. Indeed, they ran aground at Altamont as early as 1969.

"Kesey says in the film that those seeking freedom from social conventions are born to lose. Sooner or later, we all have to make a living."

But as easy as it is to dismiss the bus trip (and when you look at the loony antics on film it's even easier) there is also something to admire. Kesey was an explorer — with writing, performance art and hallucinogens. In retrospect, explorers can look silly as we can see, with the benefit of maps written later, all their false starts, wrong turns and bumbling into dead ends. But they also help to blaze trails. The ’50s and the early ’60s (look at Mad Men) were a pretty rigid time. The country was rich but the weight of conformity was heavy. It's hard to even imagine how structured that world was. Today, we are the beneficiaries of cultural freedoms and expanded thinking … that wouldn't be possible without the explorers. (Even Lee Atwater ended up playing the electric guitar!)

It's also important to remember that Kesey and the Pranksters didn't have a rule book. That sadly would come later and was much parodied by Wolfe, [Joan] Didion, et al. They were making it up as they went along. Indeed, there is a lot about the bus ride that really isn't anything more profound than a frat house road trip. (And, because of that, the police didn't seem to mind: they couldn't even imagine the idea of LSD and never thought to arrest [Neal] Cassady even though he didn't have a valid driver's license.) But in the everyday chaos of this party on wheels, there is a lesson too about how history gets written. Kesey may have given up on literature for movie cameras (he was much better at operating the typewriter) but even as the bus was hurtling down the road, with a rambling speed freak at the wheel, Kesey the storyteller was hard at work imagining how this bus ride could pass into legend. And it did.

Kesey also says in the film that those seeking freedom from social conventions are born to lose. Sooner or later, we all have to make a living. Yet those noble losers force accommodations and personal freedoms that are important.

Presented by

Robert Levin writes about film and other entertainment topics for amNewYork, Inside Jersey, Backstage, and elsewhere. He is a member of the New York Film Critics Online guild.

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