Crappy film

The film may be flawed, but its message is not.

Exactly the movie you think it is, but not the movie you want it to be.

The film never slows down or bores, plunging from one harrowing sequence to the next.

In the late 60's up until the late 70's Stacy Keach appeared with pleasing regularity in a sizable volume of seriously offbeat try-and-do-whatever defiantly unconventional and noncommercial oddball indie movies. These pictures include John Huston's beautifully downbeat "Fat City," the gloomy dope addict feature "Watched," the wonderfully outré "The Ninth Configuration," Jack Starrett's delightfully giddy'n'quirky crime romp "The Dion Brothers," and this truly idiosyncratic cinematic marvel of deeply depressed late 60's anarchy, disillusionment and spiritual malaise, which is arguably the strangest of the whole kooky bunch. Keach delivers a typically all-out loopy performance that's all fried nerves, eroding mental stability and spaced-out behavior as Jack Horner, a recent dejected college graduate who seeks psychological help from wacko unorthodox maverick shrink Doctor D (an extraordinarily nutty turn by a bearded, slender James Earl Jones). Doctor D encourages Jack to "do his own thing," a treatment which prompts Jack to get a job at a college as an English professor. Pretty soon Jack is having an adulteress fling with the neglected unhappy wife (superbly played by Dorothy Tristan) of a crazed, pompous colleague (marvelously essayed to smug, callous perfection by Harris Yulin in his film debut), a precarious situation which begets tragic consequences for all concerned. Addressing such pertinent topics as loss of identity, commonplace violence in contemporary society, abortion, drug use, infidelity, insanity and the sheer lunacy and bleak emptiness of middle class American existence with a bracing and fiercely pointed sense of sardonic humor, this grim social satire that was co-written by Terry Southern and garishly shot by Gordon Willis never lets up on its nihilistic, everything's-going-to-hell acid-soaked tone, thus making for a properly harsh, often funny and frequently provocative ridicule of trippy uninhibited 60's excess and messed-upness.

The End of the Road, is probably Terry Southern's most personal work for the cinema. One over which he had most input and control. Southern's presence is felt throughout the film, from the use of his own East canaan home as a location, to Keach holding a pair of Terry's legendary 'Bono' fly style shades, to Terry's own cameo appearance as a patient.The film is superbly acted by all concerned, Keach especially and the film is shot and edited as a subversive assault on the psyche and hypocrisy of America at the end of the sixties. Family life and alienation are to the fore, and a profound sadness for the end of the sixties.The film often goes too far and screams too loudly its in gags and cleverness, but it is genuinely moving and totally unique. One can also say that the ill judged inclusion of the protracted and unwatchable abortion scene, killed any chances the film had of success. Which is a great shame, as this is a film which deserves a wider audience beyond its status as a cult oddity. The End of the Road is one hell of a unique ride if you can stay on board and a great insight into the mind of one of cinema's greatest screenwriters, Terry Southern.

Well folks,here it is,my nomination for the WORST movie ever made!I bought this movie in 1980.I had never seen it before,and a video store had it on sale for 4.99,when BLANK tapes were about 8 bucks or so,so how could I lose?I still have it,I give it to friends to see what they think about it,and they think it is pretty bad,if not worse than me.I never thought a movie with this cast could be this bad,but it is!Let's see,Stacy Keatch in a catatonic state,after his college graduation with a whole load of degrees.He goes into zombie mode at train station,stands there for a couple of days,dog pees on foot.Along comes Mr Jones,who sees Stacy is in trouble,says something like "Yo mama's t*t's as hard as cold cement!",and Stacy wakes up!Goes to "asylum" run by Jones,gets tour,sees guy SCREWING A CHICKEN,along with other sights!Then he begins "treatment"consisting of sound effects playing at earshattering levels,and lots of pictures of war,babies,naked girls,etc flashing on walls,while Jones makes faces and talks very strangely.He eventually is improved enough to leave,gets a job teaching english(I think),has affair with older woman,has occasional relapses,then has affair with boss's wife,gets her pregnant,Jones does abortion,she chokes on own vomit and dies during the procedure.What a flick!What a load of crap this thing is,it's so full of itself!It IS amusing if watched while drunk or drugged,but if you are sober,watch out!!!

End Of The Road is a compelling and bizarre film from that most elusive of genres, the "acid" film. Okay, so that may not be an officially recognized genre. All the same this title emerges from the hippie generation as an indictment of "establishment" ethos complete with a generous helping of surrealism and "acid-friendly" scenery.In and of itself, its a pompous and wholly unremarkable film. It tries to play itself of intellectual and deep, and only comes off as superficial and pointless. The whole is definitely not as valuable of its parts. What is remarkable is the brilliant performance of James Earl Jones as Doctor D who is experimenting with radical psychological treatments that wreak of the mythical MK Ultra mind control experiments alleged to be performed by the CIA and legendary escaped Nazi scientist Joseph Goebles (sp).Jones really pulls out all the stops and lets loose in this role. He bombards Stacy Keach with traumatic sounds and images as part of his treatment, and he twists and contorts his voice, body, and mannerisms to paint an over the top picture of a cutting edge scientist walking a fine line between sanity and lunacy.It's hard to suggest that you, or anyone would enjoy this film, but if you have a taste for the twisted, you'll certainly appreciate bearing witness to this oddly beautiful artistic train wreck of a movie.