Nearly everyone I know, who's a reader anyway, goes through some sort of Beat Generation phase (Hey, it was better than our ska phase). But there is a stigma attached to those that don't grow out of it. I'm not sure why, maybe it isn't really true but among my general reader circle it is. Perhaps it is still cool to read William S. Burroughs whom Lauren recently described as someone who was, thankfully, a writer and not a serial killer. Yes, it is still cool to read Burroughs, I just decided. And soon this will be coming out. (Watch it and pretend they are talking about a serial killer and not a writer.)
Anyway, I was never a particular fan of Allen Ginsberg. in fact, Howl may be the only thing of his I have ever read. Too jazzy. Too New Age-y, ultimately. So I wasn't sure what I was going to get out of Howl. On one hand, I really enjoyed James Franco's portrayal which really wasn't much more than him doing some readings and kissing some dudes but on the other, the movie was riddled with horrible animated sequences that were distracting on a level that I can't quite comprehend. They really took me out of the film's narrative. The rest of the movie was split between glimpses of Ginsberg's life and a court room segment detailing the obscenity trial that resulted from Howl's publication.
I think I would have enjoyed this movie quite a bit, maybe even gaining a new appreciation for Ginsberg and his poetry, but because those damnable animation sequences, Jesus F. Christ they were bad, kept shitting on the screen I think I hated the movie.