Most memoirs by actors of some renown I find very dull, with their only anima the nimbus of fame that surrounds people involved in mildly amusing, if not dull, episodes. Coyote does not write of this period as if it were a roll of icons, or a series of exhibits in a museum, but his own journey through vivid, youthful life. His work in independent theater and independent communities of that strange time are given in details, rather than as manifestations of a larger thesis of the era, be it sentimental picturesque or toxic underworld.
A good, quotable section is his view on a landmark film of the time, an insightful perspective of countercultural man on countercultural product.
The Mime Troupe were an experimental theater group Coyote was involved in, while Dennis and Peter are the obvious suspects:. Despite good feelings for Dennis, Easy Rider remains a sore point with me. Peter and Dennis had seen and been excited by the Mime Troupe and suggested that I write and direct a scene with the company for inclusion in the film.
I was excited by this prospect and pleased because it could funnel a little cash into the pockets of my fellow performers, who were still subsisting on a five-dollars-a-show salary. I wrote them off angrily as spoiled brats and refused to play. This was an inaccurate, smug, and insulting reflection of the life my friends and I were creating out of hard labor, with minimal assets and comforts.
It was galling to see our style and our intentions misunderstood and misrepresented to the vast cinematic audience. This was the status quo in hip drag, and I was disgusted with it. I did not see Dennis Hopper for many years after that. When I did, we had both been resurrected as actors and men, and the joy of seeing him healthy and well and the clusters of memories we share wiped away all my bitter associations as if they had been fog.
