Much like the rest of the film community, I was shocked to wake up to the news this past weekend that the legendary director Roger Corman had passed away, which brings an end to one of the most important and influential artistic careers in the history of the medium, and the conclusion of an era in which he single-handedly defined the careers of some of the greatest filmmakers and actors of their generation. As one of the most integral figures in the development of American cinema (as well as outside his native borders – it’s difficult to find genre films produced in the last fifty years that don’t owe some debt to Corman, even if only marginally), it was clear that his influence was undeniable. Instead of eulogizing him by waxing poetic on his importance within the history of cinema, it seemed like a better opportunity to leap into his gloriously demented world once again, experiencing his vision through one of the countless brilliant films he made over the years. Instead of going with one of the obvious choices, such as his Poe Cycle or the other horror-adjacent productions he made over the years, my personal choice to celebrate his legacy is a slightly more unorthodox one, coming in the form of The Trip, his slightly-obscure 1967 psychedelic comedy in which Corman works alongside a very young Jack Nicholson, who was one of his many protégés at the time, to develop a script written by the soon-to-be Hollywood icon, which follows the experiences of a mild-mannered man who, after being told by his wife that they are to be divorced, pays a visit to a friend to experience LSD for the first time, the film following his journey while slowly succumbing to the delightful delusions that only acid seemingly can provide. As strange and daring in execution as it seems to be in theory, The Trip is a tremendous film, a bold and highly original production that is as bizarre as it is compelling, a perfect summation of Corman’s legendary career as a whole.

Any introductory text or remark about The Trip makes it abundantly clear from the very beginning that this is not the kind of film in which the prospective viewer should expect to find much of a storyline. Corman, when working with Nicholson to write the film, emphasized authenticity in the form of trying to replicate exactly what drug-fueled hypnosis would feel like, the research entailing the director and his cohorts experiencing acid trips themselves, in the hopes of crafting something that at least partially resembles, both visually and in terms of the viewer’s perception, what it would feel like to be undergoing such a bizarre experience. As a result, the narrative is as paltry as it can get without being nonexistent, and can easily be summarized into a single sentence: a young man decides to distract himself from an impending divorce by undergoing an LSD trip, with chaos ensuing as he descends further into his delusions. This is a film that is driven primarily by its atmosphere, which is perhaps the only appropriate way to make a film about something as intangible and incomprehensible as a drug trip, or at least one in which replicating that feeling is the central purpose. Far too many similarly-themed films ramp up either the humour or the absurdity, which may be entertaining, but doesn’t particularly feel genuine, whereas The Trip focuses not only on recreating the sensation of being under the influence of a mind-altering substance, but also the cumulative effect that psychedelics have on the user’s mind, where it is a series of indescribable sensations that cannot be put down into words, and often run simultaneously and without any order, as well as shifting throughout the trip, rather than being a consistent stream of emotions. Each trip is different for everyone, but Corman and Nicholson do exceptionally well in laying the groundwork for a film that comes very close to achieving exactly what it set out to do, which could not have been particularly easy considering the somewhat nebulous and bizarre concept of evoking the feeling of being under the influence of drugs for an entire film.

Beyond the concept, which is certainly admirable and worth at least some of our attention, something that not many have spoken about about The Trip is that it is more than just a film with a great premise, but also one that is superbly well-directed, which is a credit to Corman and his ability to craft something so unique, while maintaining the very strong command of his craft. The reason Corman was extremely popular and a leading figure in American cinema is not only his tendency to be extremely prolific, nor the fact that he would tell the stories no one else found interesting, but also that he was an incredible filmmaker, whose vision was unimpeachable and unmatched in ways that we still struggle to comprehend. He wasn’t just someone with an interest in low-budget B-movies designed to entertain, but a true artist whose control over both story and visuals resulted in some of the greatest films ever made. The Trip takes a very simple concept (albeit one that could have fallen apart without the right approach), and develops it into an ambitious, eccentric comedy that only succeeds because of the thought put into realizing these strange ideas. There are several moments in which we see Corman taking some of the boldest swings of his career, both visually (the bright colours combine with offbeat editing and elements such as the iconoclastic score to create an unforgettable visual and aural landscape) and in terms of the tonal elements, with the director leaping across genres, oscillating between dark comedy, psychological thriller and even a few moments in which it plays like a horror, particularly in the moments where the protagonist begins to feel unbridled fear as a result of succumbing to the mind-numbing terror that sometimes occurs to those who allow the paranoia and feeling of unease to take control while in such a vulnerable mental state. This is the key to the success of The Trip, with the actual filmmaking needing to be impeccable for the more gonzo premise to be effective, which is also one of the many reasons we find this to be one of the esteemed director’s most entertaining and well-constructed films.

Another reason behind The Trip proving to be far more interesting than it would seem at a cursory glance comes in the form of the performances. Corman is a fantastic director, but there is only so much we can do with this material before it becomes too overly off-kilter, and he manages to counteract this through the characters he creates to populate the film. Corman drew from his steadily growing canon of regular collaborators, bringing Peter Fonda and Bruce Dern from one of his previous films, Wild Angels, as well as recruiting another member of their coterie, the always impeccable Dennis Hopper, casting this trio of iconic actors as the central characters in this film. Fonda is the primary focus, as he’s playing the protagonist who undergoes the life-changing experience of an acid trip, which opens his mind to an entirely different world within his imagination, and we follow him through the sordid underbelly of Los Angeles as he navigates the challenges that come with being under the influence of a substance that he did not realize could be so strong. Fonda is exceptional in the film – some too many actors think that playing an inebriated character is beyond simple since its often seen as entailing simply acting in an over-the-top, eccentric manner, when in reality it requires layers that are not always there for most actors when playing such a part. Fonda, who was certainly not a stranger to the world of recreational drugs, fully commits to the part, and while it is far from his best performance in terms of the complexity of the role, he is still an absolute riot, as are Dern and Hopper, who have smaller but not any less impressive roles, bringing their characters (depicted as more seasoned drug users that view psychedelics as an academic matter, which adds a lot of subversive humour to the film) to life with such incredible dedication. The film is not necessarily much of a showcase for its cast in the traditional sense, but there’s fantastic work being done throughout, and they help anchor the film in a way that is bold and daring, while also adding a sense of consistency to the proceedings that were extremely necessary and helped define the entire project.

Perhaps it isn’t the most traditional kind of film that we would associate with Corman based on genre and narrative, but The Trip is still an exceptional example of his boundless talents, particularly in his visual style and tendency towards more peculiar narratives. It is very easy to spend time dwelling on Corman’s career as a way of memorializing his legacy, but it is far more important to dissect the exact reasons why he was such an important cinematic voice, which we can do by simply looking at any of his films and their impressive approach to both style and narrative. The viewer doesn’t need to know what an acid trip feels like to enjoy this film, nor do they need to have any knowledge or experience with recreational drugs to find themselves surrendering to the madness that defines this film. Instead, all we require is the willingness to suspend disbelief and just voyage into this colourful, bizarre world that Corman and his team construct. Partially a fascinating snapshot into the counterculture generation and their rebellion against authority (although it should be noted that Corman spoke over the years about his fervent intention to not condemn nor condone the use of recreational drugs with this film – instead, the aim was to be a neutral depiction that presented different sides of the experience), as well as a wildly entertaining voyage into the mind of someone having his entire consciousness redefined as a result of a drug that he is told will help him see the world in a different way, rather than entirely dismantle his understanding of reality, which is the central premise of the bold. Hilarious, unsettling and genuinely captivating in a way that isn’t always expected, The Trip is a triumph and a true gem in the exceptional career of one of the great filmmakers of his generation, and someone whose contributions to cinema are simply unmatched.