'Drugstore Cowboy', film review

(Sun don't shine like it used to)

Grade: A

The parable of "the junky" is not unlike any beaten down second hand fable. The story can be transplanted into any such medium and environment – told and retold by the junky, playmate, or spectator – on film, paper - or in dank, emptied out church halls - where one skirts retribution and seeks atonement. Points of view may change, yet the narrative remains the same. Drugstore Cowboy is such a sotry - with the exception that this parable now seems every bit more captivating, as told by Bob Hughes (played by Matt Dillon).

The film plays on the cautionary tale construct of a 1950’s crime-drama – narrated by the handsome, boyish young man who’s seen the heart of darkness, and is prepared to divulge the most menacing of details – or so we think. Such a quality seems to counter the grave lifestyle the film seems to advance (in it’s own way): that of drug addiction.

Bob’s crew of characters/ friends are introduced in the first few minutes – showcased gracefully in home-movie reel style – immediately catching the viewer off-guard - establishing our incredulous comfort with such an "abhorrent, useless" breed of individual. Thieving junkies they may be, yet, we hesitate, and realize, that the characters are quite likable - all charming, odd, and familiar in some way - much like the nuclear family of what would be the Gen X era.

Set in early 1970’s Portland, Oregon - a pure looking place one can just about seize - of clear blue skies and all of nature’s abundance - splendorous, and perfectly accentuated as the film’s backdrop – intriguing conflict, as the characters roam something congruent of “God’s country. “

Never is Drugstore Cowboy a pandering, demeaning, or judgmental portrait of it’s character’s - which include Bob’s wife and childhood friend, Dianne: a stern, striking heroine played by Kelly Lynch (following the awesome Warm Summer Rain). Lynch at times displays as much Braun as her husband Bob – the “undisputed” leader of the crew. Lynch immediately translates experience and intelligence – before she has even gotten a line in. Along for the ride is Rick, the “muscle” of the crew as Bob refers to him - played by go-to early 90’s character actor James Le Gros (Point Break, Singles). Le Gros is as soft-spoken and sensible as ever – committed to whatever is at hand for him. A perfect sidekick, as the story proceeds.

It occurred to me that this might be Matt Dillon’s only role of such quality. Although his delivery tends to remain dry, it works well. Dillon plays Bob enigmatically until the very end - as if he’s kept a secret from everyone all along (including us).

Fulfilling Gus Van Sant’s (writer/director) intention is a feat in itself: illustrating the labors of heroin addiction with childlike innocence and lightheartedness. Never does the film take a moment too seriously – including the pivotal death of a supporting character.

With it's reasonable meaty portions of cop, criminal, and unaware bureaucrat, all individuals showcased here are valued as well as any well-regarded friend may be: with their share of unpleasantness and good humor, with a bit of luck to tip the scales - for goodness sake.

Toward the film's conclusion, we are introduced to Father Murphy played with a hint of appropriate self-consciousness by William S. Burroughs - who is expected to play himself - delivering his own written dialogue.. Father Murphy is a man wizened to every nugget of truth and not the world's has, and had to offer - still brandishing a smile, while maintaining a regimented, controlled drug habit. Bob believes him to be a junky sage of sorts - dispensing simple truths and precautions with his famous, knowing smirk. It is such a display that mankind should look too: a God-like persona, who's judgment is dependent on his own pain and discomfort - not universal half-truths or stereotypes. Father Murphy beats the odds... without a shred of pride or reason - preserving the most enigmatic of all persona's. It is not up to man too decree what is right or wrong, when it concerns something as trivial as the "oral ingestion" of drug's, for reliefs sake - yet we continue to do so. There can only be one Burroughs, or a Father Murphy... but we can always try to duplicate such results.

(William S. Burroughs pardoning 'Bob's' sins)