Every Which Way But Loose: Defending the Honor of My Orangutan

Every Which Way But Loose, the second Clint Eastwood film I've ever seen, is a film that screams mixed messages. On the one hand, there's essentially nothing that distinguishes it from the rest of the tough guy cinema of the seventies, and it would seem like just a low-effort generic film that would be easily forgotten. That part about being forgotten is for certain true, and it goes to show how forgotten it was by the fact that how I watched it was by going to see a Chicago Film Society showing of it, old film reels and all. What makes the film unique, and arguably worth watching, is the fact that the main supporting character is none other than an orangutan. No joke. However, besides its excellent animal actor performance, Every Which Way But Loose has really nothing to offer modern audiences besides a bit of past-sell-by-date hilarity, much of which is unintentional.

Surprisingly for a movie from that day and age (and despite their shallow qualities), the main cast are very supportive and positive to each other. Wholesome.

To describe the story of Every Which Way But Loose is pretty difficult, mostly because there's hardly one there. The story itself revolves around Philo's relationship (seriously, the ape is the only male with a normal name in this film) and pursuit of the affections of a country singer named Lynn that he meets after a hard night of harassing women (especially college-educated women) at the local honky-tonk. Hell, it doesn't even get introduced until about twenty-five minutes in, and then is regulated to a background motivation for the main cast's road trip across the Western US after she suddenly leaves town. Along the way Philo, his brother, and their mother (who is probably the funniest part of the film) get on the wrong side of all sorts of characters, like the weirdly vengeful cops that he tussles with for no reason, or the stooge-like neo-Nazi motorcycle gang called 'The Black Widows'. The story itself, ends on a downer though. Philo, after finally chasing down Lynn in Colorado, is shocked when she bitterly reveals to him that she was actually trying to shake him off, cut him loose. It's a strangely emotional scene to be honest, and while it didn't make sense (there was literally only one instance that could have been seen as cutting him loose), it was pretty intense. Really, the journey itself is ridiculous, and actually gets funnier the more you think about it. How does Philo hold down a job if he never went back to work after the first scene? Why are there so many blue-collar workers spoiling for an organized bare-knuckle fight? Why are they always on break? Why did the two cops decide to spend their two weeks of vacation to tail and attempt to murder Philo? Nobody will ever know, but at least we will know how Philo got is faithful orangutan friend Clyde. See, he's a man with a heart of gold (who throws out sucker punches first and uses diplomacy later), an animal lover who hates to see an animal imprisoned in a zoo. So he did the only natural thing, he fought some dudes for him. Intense emotional moments aside, the film's story and pacing is actually a ton of fun, with every scene (without Lynn) being either somewhat funny to piss-your-pants hilarious, just know that you won't gain any greater insight into human or animal nature/experience from this film.

Because it's Clint Eastwood, we get the signature scowl and Western-style showdowns - with fists.

Technically, it's hard to say much good about this film. It's your average seventies film, meaning that the look and sound of it...could be better. The camerawork is a mess, it's all basic movements and shots (half of them seem to lack a tripod), with strange pans and zooms. The amount of shakycam that you'll see in this will put any modern fight scene to shame. It actually made me ill, like the cameraman was an observer of these fights who just happened to have a seizure and still wanted to resolutely watch and get into the fray. For the first time in recent memory I felt motion-sick, so, congratulations Every Which Way But Loose, you got me. The film is a good little tour of the poorer areas of the Western states during the seventies, and it was strange and surreal to see these towns and cities look so dilapidated and tired. Technically, an unexpected boon is that of the song choices. While the instrumentals are completely disposable, the vocal songs greatly enhance the otherwise generic soundtrack of the film with a period feel, and Eddie Rabbitt's "Every Which Way But Loose" gives the film a somber and pining theme (catchy as well). Also in whatever form you can find it, you better find a way to get subtitles, because the characters are quite often literally drowned out by the surrounding noise and even the music. It's a massive injustice, especially since some of the best moments are delivered by the main characters. At the end of the day, Every Which Way But Loose is just not very good technically (with some saving graces), but I don't know what I expected coming from a film like this.

In perhaps the most batshit and shakycam-filled scene in the film, one grandmother takes a stand against the local neo-Nazi  hooligans. With a shotgun that might as well have been a grenade launcher.

Every Which Way But Loose is a certified great movie to watch with the guys, guaranteed to have you rolling in your seat as you watch this strange, wacky, but eventually heartbreaking tale of a man following his heart with an orangutan and his brother. You know, the stuff that all great stories to tell at gatherings are made of. That's really all there is to it, I'd recommend it for at least one viewing. It's a generic adventure/comedy film from the seventies with nothing to say. And an ape. 'Nuff said.