director: gus van sant

written by: james fogle (novel), gus van sant (screenplay)

cast: matt dillon, kelly lynch, james le gros, heather graham, eric hull, max perlich, james remar, john kelly, grace zabriskie, george catalano, janet baumhover, ted d'arms, neal thomas, stephen rutledge, beah richards

"What do you want, my life's story? Lady, I'm a junkie. I like drugs. I like the whole lifestyle. It just didn't pay off. You don't see my kind of people, because my kind of people doesn't come down here to beg dope. They go out and get it. If they miss, they go to jail and kick alone with nothing in some holding tank," says Bob Hughes (played by Matt Dillon) to a well meaning but idealistic counselor at a drug rehab clinic. Bob is a self-described dope fiend. He doesn't romanticize or demonize his love of drugs. He tells his story with simplicity and the truth as he understands it. He lives by a kind of superstitious gambler's code: sometimes you win and sometimes you lose. Fatalistically, he knows he's doomed to lose as an addict, "I just know from years of experience the things to look for, the signs. You know what it's like? Whoever is managing such things is saying, 'Go out there and get it. It's there for the taking, kid. Everything is free this week. I'll let you know when your time's up.' I see the signs. Hell, all you have to do is look for the signs." It's 1971, Bob is 26 and he's busy leading his "crew" on a robbery spree, knocking off one friendly, neighborhood drugstore after another, up and down the Pacific Northwest. Bob's gang is not made up of idealistic, hippie, peaceniks experimenting with acid and pot. These are hardcore junkies.

Getting high isn't easy, though, "I'll tell you, no construction stiff working overtime takes more stress and strain than we did just to stay high." Bob's little drug family consists of his hooked-to-the-gills wife, Diane (Kelly Lynch); a young guy called Rick (James Le Gros) who isn't the brightest bulb on the shelf but a good kid in his own way; and Rick's novice "old lady", Nadine (18 year old Heather Graham), a pharmacy counter clerk who latched onto the crew during one of their robberies. Part of what makes this group likable is the way in which they go about the stealing. They don't stickup drugstores or smash-and-grab their loot. They use their heads and develop scenarios with each member of the crew playing a specific role to distract the hapless druggist while Bob empties the drawers of their narcotic treasures. The goal isn't to hurt anyone, it's to get the drugs, and then, as fast as possible, consume them. What they prize above all else is "powdered D" or powdered dilauded, "the best goddamn pharmaceutical dope money can buy". Diane observes that it only takes them a week to shoot a bottle (worth $8,400 in 1971 dollars) of the stuff up their arms. There's a perverse logic to what they're doing. If you're a thief and you want money, you rob banks. If you're a thief and you want drugs, you rob drugstores.

There's a bit of Oliver Twist in this story about a group of threadbare, down and out thieves. Bob is the group's Fagin, Artful Dodger, and Oliver all rolled up into one. "Please, Sir, I want some more", and more, and more, and more. It will never be enough. You like the gang despite their obvious flaws. Their down-at-the-heels style consists of knock-off Gucci shoes, mohair sweaters and plaid pants. They are more proto-grunge than flower waving hipsters. Even their slang is more rooted in coffeehouse beatnik talk than the San Francisco love children inhabiting their immediate universe. They don't rationalize their actions with talk of mind expansion or rebelling against the system. They crackup at the idiocy of an anti-drug commercial on TV, "The last time I dropped acid, I decided to draw a picture of myself (the actor then shows a piece of paper with a crazy Picasso-like face on it). Groovy, isn't it?" There are many difficulties in the life of an addict but drawing like Picasso isn't one of them.

Gus Van Sant's Drugstore Cowboy is one of the best movies of the 1980's. It might be the best film that either Matt Dillon or Gus Van Sant will ever do. The knowing and realistic plot derives from James Fogel's novel of the same title. Fogel spent 35 of his 53 year life in prison on various drug-related charges and this insightful story is the result of having been there and done that. This is Gus Van Sant's first major feature and his treatment is just right, steering the material in the direction of explanation rather than judgment. It also has great performances by Matt Dillon, Kelly Lynch, James Le Gros, Heather Graham, James Remar, Max Perlich and William S. Burroughs. There isn't a scenery-chewing performance in the bunch, and they could have easily gone over-the-top with a story about drugs. Matt Dillon's performance is subtle. His "Bob" is a charming and pathetic loser who, unknowingly, is on the road to redemption. The scene where he returns to his mother's house to pickup some badly needed clothes after a police raid is tragic. Although it has funny elements, it's played straight, sad, and pathetic as a situation like that would be in real life. Bob's heartbroken mother, played by veteran supporting actress "Amazing" Grace Zabriskie (remember Laura Palmer's mom in Twin Peaks?), knows the depths her son has fallen into and says as much to Diane, "He is a thief and a dope fiend, and that is more important to him than I am... I don't hate you Diane and I don't hate Robert either, and the good lord knows that to be the truth. I truly feel pity for you both. You are grownup now and you still act as children that want to run and play. You can not run and play your whole life."

When the drug counselor asks Bob if he's ever considered helping fellow drug addicts to cleanup, he responds matter-of-factly, "To begin with, nobody, and I mean nobody, can talk a junkie out of using. You can talk to them for years but sooner or later they're going to get hold of something. Maybe, it's not dope. Maybe, it's booze. Maybe, it's glue. Maybe, it's gasoline. Maybe, it's a gunshot in the head, but something… something to relieve the pressures of their everyday life, like having to tie their shoes." Bob knows himself and people like him well, and he knows the power that drugs can have on a person and what keeps them coming back for more, "I laughed to myself as I pictured dilauded in such great amounts that the spoon would literally be overflowing. Upon entering my vein the drug would start a warm itch that would surge along until the brain consumed it in a gentle explosion that began in the back of the neck and rose rapidly until I felt such pleasure that the whole world sympathized and took on a soft, lofty appeal. Everything was grand then. Your worst enemy wasn't so bad. The ants in the grass were just doing their thing. Everything took on a rosy hue of unlimited success. You could do no wrong and as long as it lasted, life was beautiful." What in the arsenal of the English language can be said to counter that experience, even the knowledge that this will ultimately kill you? Every junkie has to hit bottom and either give in to hopelessness or make the mental leap—that the only way to live is to completely give up drugs, and even harder, all the people that are still using them. Bob tries to explain to Diane, "… for all the boredom the straight life brings, it's not that bad. I mean, even this crummy, little room ain't so bad. I actually wake up some mornings and I feel like something good is going to happen today, you know. I'm a regular guy. I've got my regular job. I've got my regular room… and now I've got you." Words and reason aren't going to convince a junkie and Bob knows this. For him it was seeing the signs and knowing when his time was up. The signs are different for everybody. Dogs, mirrors and hats are the signs that tell Bob Hughes that it's over.

Not to worry, there are great big chunks of story and subplot left unexplored in this little article. Drugstore Cowboy is a real lost treasure and is well worth a DVD/video rental so you can enjoy the whole 104 minutes. However, don't expect thrilling chase scenes, over-the-top action, or sensationalized depravity. Bob and his adopted family of druggies are portrayed as frail human beings who are doing anything they can to numb the pain they feel inside themselves. Although this is a story of redemption, you get to see a number of different fates that could befall anyone who struggles with addiction. Drugstore Cowboy can be viewed as the flipside of Darren Aronofsky's Requiem for a Dream (one of the best films of the zeros—is that what you call what we are in now?), in that the Herculean feat of defying drug addiction is a possibility. As Bob would say, "Most people don't know how their going to feel from one moment to the next, but a dope fiend has a pretty good idea. All you've got to do is look at the labels on the little bottles."— Tom Graney