Drugstore cowboy (1989)

Whether we want it or not, many of us nurse our own special mythological images of the US and A, inspired by music, film and literature. For me, this mythological landscape consists of drab streets and cafes in Portland, Oregon. Gus van Sant, of course, is to blame. I first watched Drugstore cowboy as a kid, and it was an interesting experience to see that it did not feel that dated, though it is many things that make it a film of the 90’s. In other words: I still like this unglamorous, dreamy portrait of what life as a drug addict is like. Van Sant feels no need for moralism. He just tells a story about these people who rob drugstores and engage in dull conversations about strange things (the bad mojo of hats on beds, for example). He doesn’t make their lives appear particularly romantic. Even though the film can be seen as fusing elements from classic outlaw films, we are never tempted to think that wow, these folks are dangerous and cool. Instead, the four main characters roam through their mundane lives in which paranoia and superstition plays no minor part. These characters are not very likeabe, but we accept them.

I don’t know how he does it, but despite its mundane character, I never fail to engage in this story. Rather than being evil, or Fiends of Society, van Sandts anti-heroes are lost, frail and bored. Already in the beginning of the film, we sense that things will go downwards from here, but van Sandt never titillates the viewer with Destiny and how things are bound to Happen. Stuff just happen and something gruesome  situations have to be dealt with. Boredom is one of van Sant’s dearest themes. In scrutinizing the tics of boredom, restlessness and empty time, he manages to show several forms of existential dread that doesn’t really look dreadful, but, precisely, bears the expressionless face of Matt Dillon in this film. – Don’t miss the small role played by William Burroughs.

Visually, Drugstore cowboy mixes the ultrareal with dreamlike sequences. The languid pace of the story and the camera never stands in place of observation. Van Sant is obviously a director that does not need sunsets and shit to create stark moments of beauty. All he need is the woozy view from a train window or a sun-lit motel. - And of course I liked the use of Desmond Dekker's music. Yay for this film and yay! for Gus van Sant.