Drugstore Cowboy
First of all, did you know that they have a dog award at the Cannes Festival? I learned about it when I was researching “Le Havre”. In the worst pun in the world, they call it the “Palm Dog”. (The Berlinale should come up with a feline performance award, that’s right. And call it the “Bearcat Award”.) Anyways, Panda is about the greatest detail in the world, and so amazingly cute. I want a dog like that! In that single scene with Panda, the tone of sadness in the film reaches its climax. It is also beautiful that the following scene is so humorously absurd, juxtaposing the two main elements of the film – whimsical humor and buried despair. I guess you should call that gallows humor, but that’s not really it. It’s not like the one comes out of the other, they exist simultaneously next to each other in this film.
In many ways, I suppose you can perceive “Drugstore Cowboy” as the preparation for “My Private Idaho”; both films feature young gang members or drifters who are somewhere on the lower end of the social classes, not knowing what to do with themselves. Mood and style are similar, and in both cases the melancholy in the film foreshadows a sad ending.
“My Private Idaho” was not the only comparison which came to mind. Some guy on Imdb drew some parallels between “Drugstore Cowboy” and “Twin Peaks”. The guy is mostly bringing up details, although Heather Graham and Grace Zabriskie are certainly pretty good reminders. What I thought was most striking is the superstition of the main character, their intense belief that something supernatural is somehow governing our world and that the circle of life will be closed (in some sense).
Oh by the way, I actually really liked those little Alphaville-style inserts – a flying hat or some flying guns as “intermission pictures” are not exactly what I am expecting from Gus van Sant. That is not the only thing slightly different from the other Gus van Sant stuff I have seen – this is definitely the only one without any gayness. Even “Elephant” had some elements in it, but “Drugstore Cowboy” comes completely without.
Besides the fact that I was confronted with a 20 years younger Harry Morgan (as suspicious but then caring policeman), “Drugstore Cowboy” was quite a pleasant surprise. I liked it much more than any other early Gus van Sant film I have seen, mostly because it’s a lot like “My Private Idaho” just without the Shakespearean talking and a more blues-y soundtrack.