Travel in Film: How My Dad Turned Me Into a Vagabond with 6 Movies
Before my father died he wrote me a letter in which he urged me to buy an RV, hit the road, and live like a vagabond. This was not the sort of suggestion I’d come to expect from him, as he had spent the majority of my then 22-year-old life prompting me toward a more traditional variety of responsible living.
At the time it was surprising. Back then I thought of him as a rather grounded person, but over the ensuing decade two considerations have made me rethink this position.
First, the early period of his life—before he had been hitched to the yoke by the responsibility that came with creating two subsequent families—a time when he did travel and lived a significantly more rough-and-tumble lifestyle.
Second, the movies he loved, and that we would watch together during his weekend down-time. These movies were his escape to the life he’d wanted but never had.
They were movies about people on the move. People hiding out. People who for one reason or another were out of place in the world, and therefore were forced to live a drifting, unattached existence.
Why is this on my mind now? Probably because I am immersed in yet another lengthy bout of ongoing, solo travel, and because my first serious foray into the traveling lifestyle came shortly after my father’s death when I more-or-less fled to Paris and Spain. While I’d been considering the idea of said trip for several months at that point, it was the sudden tragedy that pushed me over the edge and out into the world.
Ever since then I’ve lived a life on the road, the life of a roaming loner.
It’s a motivation that is common to many of the characters who feature on this list—loss instigating the momentum of solitary, wandering introspection. Tragedy forced them onto road, usually alone. And in each case they did what they had to do to make their way.
And with—onto the list.
Here are six movies to which my dad introduced me, and which introduced me to the lifestyle of the wandering loner. I have seen each of them at least a dozen times, and will likely see them many more times in the future.
The Thing – Kurt Russell as MacReady
Among my earliest cinematic memories is that of watching a man turn into some phantasmagoric monster whose head oozed off and grew spider legs before being incinerated by a flamethrower.
Holding that flamethrower was MacReady—a cynical helicopter pilot who had come to work at a scientific outpost in Antarctica with the clear intention of escaping some unexplained past. I have always presumed it had something to do with Vietnam. Not only did MacReady travel to the isolation of Antarctica, but he detached himself further by living in a shack separate from the communal living space of his compatriots.
This character instilled in me an early appreciation for the rough-around-the-edges, self-sufficient, well-bearded loner. In other words, Kurt Russell delivered a badass portrayal which was rather inspirational to wee-me.
I couldn’t have been much older than eight or nine when I first saw the Thing, which was, admittedly, perhaps too young considering its hyper-graphic, hyper-realistic content. But to this day it is arguably my favorite movie.
The Sand Pebbles – Steve McQueen as Jake Holman
As far as I’m concerned, the Sand Pebbles is one of the war movies to end all war movies. Epically long, progressively themed, and finely acted, it doesn’t get the credit it deserves.
Steve McQueen delivers perhaps his greatest performance as Jake Holman, a naval engineer who is transferred from unit to unit and country to country due to his anti-authority, individualist, anti-social behavior. All he wants is to be left alone to repair ship engines, which—coupled with his wandering, cynical tendencies—implies that he is trying to figure out and fix something much more intangible than pipes and pistons.
The only thing that distracts him from said engines is a damn-foxy Candice Bergen. This is, admittedly, just the sort of distraction to which I myself am prone.
Alien – Sigourney Weaver as Ellen Ripley
Most people are familiar with the Alien series, and as far as wandering, loner, out of place characters go, Ripley is among the best.
From movie to movie she traverses the breadth of the galaxy. That’s already just about as “out” of place as it gets, but she takes things even further. Ripley spends the interim between films in extended hypersleep, resulting in the literal loss of her era of existence as she ages by dozens upon dozens of years, leaving everything she knows and loves behind in the past.
She’s a resilient, self-sufficient, solitary character who lives out of place and out of time. Some of these are qualities to which a youthful me aspired, others arose of their own volition.
Quick shout-out to Yaphet Kotto, whose performance as Parker most definitely fueled some of my smartass, working-class skepticism.
Parker was a badass.
Everything by Sergio Leone – Clint Eastwood and Charles Bronson
Perhaps the ultimate tales of the Wandering Loner come from Sergio Leone, most notably The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly as well as Once Upon a Time in the West. Eastwood (as Blondie) and Bronson (as Harmonica) set the standard for the drifter image.
To a ten-year-old, these characters have much to teach about independence, freedom, transgression, self-reliance, humor, justice, ruggedness, and even gentleness.
On one hand they live for no one but themselves. But on the other, part of their drifting has intent. They are individuals wandering separate from the world around them, but they are out to set things right. To do the right thing. They engage and attempt to right a world in which they feel they have no place.
It’s a powerful thing to learn at an early age. To live your own life while doing right by others. To be formidable but humorous. To be strong but gentle.
Star Wars – Harrison Ford as Han Solo
I don’t remember when I was first exposed to the original Star Wars franchise. My earliest viewings may or may not have involved my dad. But I do remember how when the films were rereleased in theaters sometime in the early 1990’s, he brought my brother and I and waited for hours in a seemingly endless line to make sure that we could see them on the big screen. And I remember that he appreciated Han Solo.
Of course he did. Dad was a smooth-talker, a gun-toter, and a car tinkerer. Between Solo’s wit, his blaster, and his endless devotion to his ship, it was only natural that my father would latch onto such a character.
And it is impossible for me to not recognize how the character influenced my own future self. I took a healthy dose of my charm from Ford’s portrayal, along with my propensity for sass, and my seemingly thoughtless willingness to charge head-first into a bad situation. As a kid I always wanted to emulate the worldliness (or should I say galaxiness?) that came from his far-ranging travels, and now here I am out learning the lessons of the world.
As for his smuggler livelihood and tendency to break the rules…let’s just say that I’ve picked up a fairly flexible approach to legality as the years have gone by.
Jaws – Robert Shaw as Quint
What can I say about Quint?
After escaping the shark feeding frenzy that was the sinking of the USS Indianapolis, he wandered the Earth boozing and womanizing and adventuring away his bad memories.
He’s covered with scars and various injuries from drunken nights and arm wrestling matches.
He’s foul talking and hard drinking and musical and sometimes funny and sometimes mean.
He’s obnoxiously independent and fiercely, perhaps foolishly skeptical of asking for help.
He can be the life of the party, but really doesn’t play well with others.
For better or worse, I picked up a lot from Quint.