Easily the most memorable, perhaps even shocking image in "Growing Up in America" is provided by Jerry Rubin, described as a Yippie gone Yuppie, first in a black-and-white television clip with his familiar beard, wild hair and painted face, ranting and raving about the need for social change at a Berkeley rally in the mid-1960s, then in a color interview from last year, in which he's clean-shaven, wearing a conservative suit and seems quite happy as a husband and father living the affluent, quiet life of a restaurateur who jogs and worries about his cholesterol level.
Then there's Abbie Hoffman, still bearded and outspoken, as concerned and active as ever in a number of social causes.
For those of us who grew up in the '60s, these are two of many images that stay in mind after seeing "Growing Up in America," a striking documentary about the changes undergone in the past two decades by former counter-culture revolutionaries whose names are synonymous with that period.
The film's approach is unique, however, in that it doesn't really have a point of view. That's especially surprising since this is documentary filmmaker Morley Markson's American answer to Michael Apted's British "28-Up." In Apted's film he interviewed several children, then returned to interview them again every seven years or so to see how they'd changed. The revelations are startling, but no more so than "Growing Up in America."
Markson is spinning off of a film he made some 18 years ago, "Breathing Together: Revolution of the Electric Family," in which he interviewed such counter-culture leaders as Rubin, Hoffman, Black Panther Fred Hampton, self-styled LSD prophet Timothy Leary, poet Allen Ginsberg, etc. That film was simply a series of straight-forward interviews, but all of the subjects had the same point of view, that radical change in America was necessary to eliminate social ills.
"Growing Up in America" has each of the surviving principals looking at excerpts of themselves from Markson's first film and then commenting on them, again in a straightforward, no-narration approach. Most of his subjects make no apologies and are as enthusiastic as ever about the causes they served.
But the stark exceptions are Rubin and William Kunstler, attorney for the Chicago Seven. Kunstler is actually embarrassed about his previous life and laughs nervously as he tries to explain himself.
Abbie Hoffman, of course, recently committed suicide, but this film captures him in a state of exuberance, apparently happy with his celebrity as a sought-after elder statesman-spokesman for fights against various social problems, claiming to have received several such calls a week. Fred Hampton was killed by police in 1969 and for his segment Markson interviews his widow and son.
Some others here have changed, but perhaps not that much: Ginsberg is still chanting his mantra — he's just found a better mantra — and Leary doesn't really look or sound that different from 20 years ago, though computers seem to have focused his attention in other areas.
"Growing Up in America" is a fascinating time machine trip that may cause some uneasy feelings about the changes we've gone through, but it's a most thought-provoking mix. It is unrated, but would easily earn an R for language, and there is some newsreel violence and pot-smoking.