Frommer's San Francisco 2012 - Matthew Poole [19]
A film still from Vertigo (1958): Jimmy Stewart pulls Kim Novak from the bay at Fort Point.
For a change of pace and no tragic law-enforcement characters, screen the romantic comedy What’s Up, Doc? (1972) with Barbra Streisand and Ryan O’Neal. Along with being very funny, it’s got one of cinema’s all-time classic car chase scenes, with shots of Lombard Street, Chinatown, and Alta Plaza Park in Pacific Heights. If you have kids to rev up, the 1993 comedy Mrs. Doubtfire, starring Sally Field and the city’s favorite son, Robin Williams, shows San Francisco under blue skies and cable cars with plenty of room. The house where the character’s estranged wife and children live is located in Pacific Heights at 2640 Steiner St. (at Broadway St.), in case you care to gawk.
Finally, 24 Hours on Craigslist is a documentary that covers a day in the life of the Internet community bulletin-board phenom. The filmmaker posted an ad on Craigslist, followed up with a handful of volunteers—an Ethel Merman impersonator seeking a Led Zeppelin cover band; a couple looking for others to join a support group for diabetic cats; a single, older woman needing a sperm donor—and sent film crews to cover their stories. Unlike other films that show the physical splendors of San Francisco, 24 Hours on Craigslist will give you a sense of the city’s psyche, or at least offer an explanation of why non–San Franciscans think the place is populated with . . . um . . . unusual types.
Sounds of the ’60s
During its heyday in the 1950s and 1960s, San Francisco was the place to be for anyone who eschewed the conventional American lifestyle. From moody beatniks to political firebrands, the city was a vortex for poets, writers, actors, and a bewildering assortment of free thinkers and activists. Drawn by the city’s already liberal views on life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, thousands of the country’s youth—including some of America’s most talented musicians—headed west to join the party. What culminated in the 1960s was San Francisco’s hat trick of rock legends: It was able to lay claim to three of the rock era’s most influential bands—the Grateful Dead, Big Brother and the Holding Company and Janis Joplin, and Jefferson Airplane.
THE GRATEFUL DEAD Easily the most influential band to be spawned from the psychedelic movement of the 1960s, the Grateful Dead was San Francisco’s own music guru. Described as the “house band for the famous acid tests that transformed the City by the Bay into one endless freak-out,” the Dead’s music was played simultaneously on so many stereo systems (and at such high volumes) that the group almost seemed to have set the tone for one enormous, citywide jam session.
Though the group disbanded in 1995 after the death of its charismatic lead vocalist, Jerry Garcia, the group’s devoted fans had already elevated the Grateful Dead to cult empire status. Tie-dyed “Deadheads” (many of whom followed the band on tour for decades) can still be found tripping within the Haight, reminiscing about the good old days when the group never traveled with a sound system weighing less than 23 tons. In fact, more than any other band produced during the 1960s, the Grateful Dead were best appreciated during live concerts, partly because of the love-in mood that frequently percolated through the acidic audiences. Many rock critics remember with