93/100

Gonna let my Scenic Routes column do the heavy lifting here, because this film's awesomeness is rooted in minutiae and thus very hard to articulate in a drive-by format. Everything's in flawless sync: the quartet of pitch-perfect performances (especially Kelly Lynch, who makes Diane the epitome of empathetic self-interest); Fogle's episodic, non-judgmental, enthrallingly detailed portrait of the junkie life; Van Sant's blend of the ethereal and the mundane, featuring inventive use of double exposure alongside blunt, unforgiving inserts; superbly evocative Portland locations; Robert Yeoman's ability to make even interiors look overcast; Max Perlich's rat face; William S. Burroughs' stentorian death drawl. Even the color of the opening titles is perfect*. I always deflate a little when Bob decides to…

I'm not really sure what I was expecting in Drugstore Cowboy, but I can guarantee you it wasn't what I got. Matt Dillon is basically playing himself here (as he always seems to be?) as the cute and charming asshole. He creates a raggedy band of thieves, who come to resemble a pretty fucked up but tight-nit family. They go around robbing drug stores to feed their own addictions and to try and sell some of the drugs they steal. It's a period piece set in the 1960's but it's pretty difficult to tell. At least for me it was.

This is one of the few drug movies that doesn't rely on pity from the audience to make it work.…

It is difficult to make a film about the lifestyle of society’s outsiders without any sense of either revulsion or romanticization. The problem is exacerbated with films dealing with drug abuse and addiction, which is still condemned in American society more often than examined with any sociological concern for the actual attendant lifestyle of especially long-term drug users. The question of just how junkies live their lives has however long been an issue in so-called Beat literature inspired in particular by the life and ethos of William S. Burroughs, who true to form makes a deathly appearance in Drugstore Cowboy as the epitome of what the film considers a lifestyle choice. To be both somewhat objective and simultaneously tender is…

The December Project: #21

Gus Van Sant is a hit-and-miss director. Some of his movies are enthralling capturing you wholly like DRUGSTORE COWBOY, after watching others you wish the time you spent on it back.

It was interesting to see the actors in their twenties then and compare them to themselves now. Matt Dillon was a real star in his early career, always getting the lead and I've always been a big fan of Heather Graham. This film got me really excited about BOOGIE NIGHTS and I think I'm gonna watch it during this challenge if at all possible.

DRUGSTORE COWBOY paints a picture where using drugs is a positive thing and being sober negative. While on drugs Matt Dillon…

93/100

Gonna let my Scenic Routes column do the heavy lifting here, because this film's awesomeness is rooted in minutiae and thus very hard to articulate in a drive-by format. Everything's in flawless sync: the quartet of pitch-perfect performances (especially Kelly Lynch, who makes Diane the epitome of empathetic self-interest); Fogle's episodic, non-judgmental, enthrallingly detailed portrait of the junkie life; Van Sant's blend of the ethereal and the mundane, featuring inventive use of double exposure alongside blunt, unforgiving inserts; superbly evocative Portland locations; Robert Yeoman's ability to make even interiors look overcast; Max Perlich's rat face; William S. Burroughs' stentorian death drawl. Even the color of the opening titles is perfect*. I always deflate a little when Bob decides to…

"Drugstore Cowboy"'s Bob Hughes has quite the setup. With his fellow accomplices, Hughes robs small pharmacies in hopes of finding enough drugs to feed his addiction. And, he's good at it.

So good, in fact, that his cadre of junkies fellow him unconditionally. Whether it's Dianne, the devoted wife, enjoying the chase but lacking the emotional connection from Bob; Rick, the muscle and faithful servant; or, Nadine, the newest, and youngest, member of the group, Bob Hughes is in control of them all.

As the film progresses, we're witness to the subtleties and nuances of the drug life, and what it means to give that up. In contrast to a film like "Requiem for a Dream", this film's cast of…