The other night I watched (again) "The Wild One," without a doubt the most iconic American movie of the Fifties. Despite being a "B" movie (and not a particularly brilliant one at that), "The Wild One" contains one of Brando's most forceful and definitive performances. Every serious compendium of film criticism (print or video) rates this movie at or near the top of the most influential films of the Fifties. Unlike "Streetcar," "On the Waterfront," "Viva Zapata" or "The Men," where Brando was surrounded by other capable actors, here he has a near-solo showcase for his ability to totally dominate everything (although Lee Marvin turns in an early, effective performance as a convincingly wretched fellow-biker).
One of the reasons I love "The Wild One" is that, when it came to our neighborhood moviehouse in '54 (almost a year after it was released), I was the only kid who had a real, leather motorcycle jacket. Andy Warhol once said everyone would be famous for 15 minutes. My 15 minutes of fame came on that matinee when all the neighborhood kids and I watched "The Wild One." And every one of them begged me to let them wear my motorcycle jacket while watching the film. Ah, what a moment... smile Afterward, we all attached a clothespin to a playing card, mounted the clothespin to the rear wheel of our bicycles, and let the playing card flap against the spokes of the wheel--making a sound like a motorcycle. Perfect!


Ntra la porta tua lu sangu � sparsu,
E nun me mporta si ce muoru accisu...
E s'iddu muoru e vaju mparadisu
Si nun ce truovo a ttia, mancu ce trasu.