Review in a Hurry: This multi-tiered take on Allen Ginsberg's titular poem combines recreated archival interviews and flashbacks of James Franco as the young poet, stream-of-consciousness animation based on the words of the poem, and a reenactment of the trial of Ginsberg's publisher for obscenity. Some of this works very well, while other parts neglect the fact that film is primarily a visual medium, and footage of somebody just talking can get tedious.
The Bigger Picture: If the Eric Drooker-inspired animated segments of Howl were a film unto themselves, it'd be damn near a perfect one. A great fit of form and substance that takes the mind in various directions suggested by the words of Ginsberg, as powerfully intoned by Franco (that Ginsberg was a fan of Drooker makes it all the more appropriate).
If the trial sequences were a separate film, they'd feel superficial but funny, not unlike Sidney Lumet's Find Me Guilty, inspired by a real case so absurd that playing it broadly as farce seems almost appropriate.
Unfortunately, those parts make up only about half of this movie. The rest mainly consists of an imagined extended interview to an unseen reporter with Ginsberg around the time of the trial, which then leads into black-and-white flashbacks of Ginsberg's first experiences of love, and a long reenactment of Ginsberg reading the poem live for the first time at hipster hangout Six Gallery.
If you come to the table with a vast knowledge of Ginsberg already, or maybe just think Franco's gorgeous in anything, these moments will have more meaning. But to the casual viewer, the monotony of the visuals in these moments—especially apparent when contrasted with the animated parts—will cause the mind to wander.
Franco-as-Ginsberg, using a mixture of real and extrapolated quotes, does have some interesting things to say about the writing process, which would be great if he were teaching a literature class. But directors Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman, perhaps too used to making documentaries, don't seem to have the aptitude for filming creatively when given total control over all the elements.
As the stern and unexpectedly fair-minded judge, however, Bob Balaban gives one of his best performances in years.
The 180—a Second Opinion: Hardcore Franco-philes and Ginsbergians will find plenty here that the rest of us just don't get. If you fall into either of these camps, bump the letter grade up a few notches.