'Drugstore Cowboys'

In my late teens, I got suckered into the seedy, thrill-driven drug culture of Jack Kerouac and William S. Burroughs, which led me to Gus Van Sant’s break-out film, Drugstore Cowboys. 

I remember watching it probably a dozen times in a two or three year span and becoming obsessed with drifters and the life of a drug fiend, who do just enough property damage to freak the squares out. 

Drugs have two very simple narratives – the guys selling and the guy using. The guys selling traces back to TV series like The Wire that show a very stark, realistic picture of the turf wars that take place on urban streets. 

Drugstore Cowboys is a very clean adaptation of drug use: Users seeking high after high slowly running out of the patience or guts needed to play the game. 

As much as I watched it, I never liked Drugstore Cowboys. I thought and still think it’s poorly acted (Matt Dillon is half decent). 

There are things said and done that would never ever be done by real people, whether they’re drug addicts or not. Rick punching the wall after Nadine overdoses is especially egregious. It sorta overshadows Nadine actually dying.