For the August, 1983 issue of High Times, Mike Wilmington interviewed the late, great Dennis Hopper, who would have been 84 years old on May 17.
The years since 1969 have been no easy ride for Dennis Hopper. The onetime hang-tough buddy of the late James Dean, the outlaw-chopper-hippie-coke-score icon of the late ’60s (gunning his Harley through a haze of acid rock), suddenly found himself branded the avatar of cinematic bad-assery in the early ’70s, when the front office refused to give his next movie (The Last Movie—almost a fitting title) a decent release, later chopping it up for late-night television dog food. The Hopper rep became graven in plastic: Mr. Self-Destruction, blowing the studio’s hard-earned bucks out the window, down the toilet and up his nose—while prudent, frugal executives wrung their hands (and Hopper’s neck) in horror… And the iron door clanged shut for the rest of the “Me” decade.
It was a bizarre fate for a man who’d earned,…
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