Alain Delon and “Girl On A Motorcycle”

In the grand screenplay of life, Alain Delon just rode off into the sunset for the last time. The French actor, who passed away on August 18, 2024, at the age of 88, left behind a legacy that’s part Adonis, part thespian, and all charm. But while we could wax poetic about his piercing blue eyes or his impressive 100+ film catalog, let’s instead rev up the engine and take a wild ride through one of his lesser-known, yet delightfully bizarre contributions to cinema: the 1968 cult classic, Girl on a Motorcycle.

It’s 1968. Flower Power is in full bloom, free love is all the rage, and someone in a movie studio pitches, “What if we put a nearly naked Marianne Faithfull on a motorcycle and send her on a psychedelic journey across Europe?” Somehow, this idea not only got greenlit but also managed to snag the most beautiful man in cinema, Alain Delon, as the co-star.

Delon, fresh off his string of successes in the ’60s, decided to take a detour into the world of arthouse erotica. In Girl on a Motorcycle, he plays Daniel, a hedonistic college professor who’s “mad about motorcycles” and allergic to commitment.

The film follows Rebecca (Faithfull), a young housewife who ditches her boring bourgeois life faster than you can say “quarter-life crisis.” Clad in a black leather catsuit that would make Catwoman envious, she hops on her Harley-Davidson Electra Glide (subtle phallic symbolism, anyone?) and embarks on a journey to find her lover, Daniel.

What follows is a trippy tapestry of flashbacks, guilt-ridden fantasies, and enough psychedelic imagery to make Timothy Leary say, “Whoa, maybe we should dial it back a notch.” It’s like Easy Rider meets Fifty Shades of Grey, with a dash of existential crisis thrown in for good measure.

Girl on a Motorcycle holds the dubious honor of being the first film to receive an X rating in the United States. One can almost hear the pearls being clutched across 1960s America. The film’s alternate title, Naked Under Leather, probably didn’t help its case with the censors. It’s worth noting that Warner Brothers decided to edit the film for an R rating, presumably removing all the fun bits. (There’s an unintentionally comic scene of Delon hiding “little Alain” behind a big vase as he strolls nude through a scene—which would be sent up in the Austin Powers movie decades later.)

No tribute to this cult classic would be complete without mentioning its groovy soundtrack. Composed by Les Reed (not to be confused with Lou Reed, though that would have been an interesting twist), the music is a perfect encapsulation of late ’60s vibes. It’s got everything: Hammond organ grooves, quasi-classical interludes, lush Europop, and just a pinch of avant-garde weirdness. It’s the kind of soundtrack that makes you want to don a leather jumpsuit and cruise down the Autobahn, even if you’ve never ridden a motorcycle in your life.

While Girl on a Motorcycle may not have been Delon’s crowning achievement, it showcases the actor’s willingness to step outside his comfort zone. Here was a man who could have easily coasted on his looks, yet chose to participate in a film that was equal parts artsy and audacious.

As we bid farewell to Alain Delon, let’s remember him not just for his classic roles or his status as a European sex symbol, but also for his contributions to the weird and wonderful world of cult cinema. Girl on a Motorcycle may not be high art, but it’s a testament to an era when filmmakers weren’t afraid to get a little wild, a little naked, and a lot existential.

-Staci Layne Wilson

Fair use image of Girl On the Motorcycle