Route One USA
Robert Kramer
1989, 255 mins.
Here’s One for the road
Over the span of four and one quarter hours, Kramer’s epic road trip has precious little to do about the highway from Maine to Key West, but all to do with the people, sights and sounds alongside the wide-ranging route (with the possible exception of a “taking my time Floridian turtle” whose shell remains solidly intact).
Along for the ride are just-back-from-a-stint-in-Africa Doc (Paul McIsaac and his constant companion black bag add much to the humanity of the narrative) and, of course, Kramer and his probing camera.
What could, for some, be an interesting hodge podge of scenes in varying locales, for the rest of us it’s a remarkable commentary of life’s challenges (racism, poverty, immigration, crime…) which, sadly, rings even louder in 2025.
Best of show/foreshadowing is Jesse Jackson’s back of the campaign bus interview, clearly stating that “Good leadership informs, inspires and motivates”. Compare that to current leadership in the land of the free where lies, bullies and systemic discrimination sets the daily political table. Kramer must be turning in his grave.
American literature plays an important part along the journey. No better way to start than with Walt Whitman’s “Song of the Open Road”:
Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me, leading wherever I choose.
- From Leaves of Grass, 1856
Do discover and read the rest of this forever poem—how marvellous that McIsaac used the same edition as sits in my library.
Then, during a visit to Thoreau’s Walden House, we were reminded:
“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”
- From Walden, or Life in the Woods, 1854
And prophetically: “The slave-ship is on her way, crowded with its dying victims” from the essay A Plea for Captain John Brown (1859).
Purposely, pointedly, Kramer chose these references to give his cinematic essay both relevance and depth, allowing thoughtful viewers to compare century-old thoughts with the present day, just as this timely reissue allows contemporary viewers to do that twice over.
A viewing is highly recommended—especially for those who purport to know better than we do, but most certainly do not know their history much less the present-day route to tolerance, peace and the joy of living so that—just like the closing glass-bottom boat shots—we can all see things we would otherwise be blind to.
And a special mention must be made of Barre Phillips truly original score with particular kudos to the most welcome interventions from the fulsome bass clarinet, versatile cello and delectably reedy soprano saxophone. JWR
Looking for Robert
Richard Copans
2025, 74 mins.
“Documentary is cinema’s jazz”
Here is a retrospective look at Kramer’s art by a man who knew him through thick and thin. As first his cinematographer and then, later, producer, Copans quite literally manages the “looking” of the storied filmmaker for many years. Yet, on another, much more important plane, Copans’ loving portrait boldly recalling good times (so many cinematic truths) and bad (a brief parting of ways, technical glitches and money woes—try to name a serious filmmaker who has never experienced those challenges), much like their many collaborations, the screen speaks for itself, causing moviegoers around the planet to be oh so glad that this, at the time, odd couple, gave us so much insight and food for thought.
Once again, Phillips and his talented musicians, keep the ear as engaged as the filmmakers reward the eye with provocative images and honest dialogues. JWR