Slacker (Linklater)
Slacker would have done better if the marketers pinned it as a road movie and not a full-blown comedy. Not only does it not fit the literary definition of comedy, it doesn't strive for the kind of blunt humor most comedy films go after. Linklater's film precedes Tarantino's first by a year, yet Slacker's approach to divulging monologues and dialogues on how pop culture has become a new cultural medium is long-winded and demands attention. Because the movie dives in and out of interconnected segments, each corresponding to an overall theme (essence vs. existence; cognitive dissonance; the importance of JFK's assassination relative to the relevance of a Madonna pap smear), nothing ever feels fully developed. This is the difference between Reservoir Dogs and Slacker: the former uses non-linear structure for its plot, while the latter doesn't need a plot. It sticks to nebulous thematic connections; I certainly prefer Tarantino's decision, since Linklater took on a more ambitious subject field in a more obtuse manner for his sophomore feature.
It's not that Slacker doesn't provide interesting commentary on life in Austin—in middle-class central Texas, really. But directors like Linklater ought to care more for how segments transition into one another. Some sequences in Slacker follow one another with complete disregard for themes previously presented. One vignette might deal with a young man's selfishness compared to his girlfriend's selfless-ness; immediately following that comes a brief moment with a JFK conspiracy theorist! It's one thing to demand concentration from eager viewers, but it's another to go off of a tangent without having a point to said editing choice. It defines the film not through plotted acts, but through sketches of varying efficacy, all sketchy standalone. Metaphorical travel movies like Slacker should have no problem avoiding this problem, but Linklater's savvy mix of Bresson, Ray, and Antonioni suffers from it big-time.
That's the only flaw I can think of, though. Everything else in Slacker services a unique vision of privileged Americans, college drop-outs, and plain strange people. The cinematography ensures that viewers never find intimacy in the film's subjects, instead keeping a steady distance at all times. The non-actor actors play themselves effortlessly, as if the camera were but a fly. And, when it works, the story format teases details and leaves the actions of local Austinites up to interpretation, just the way I like it. Slacker injects its own abstraction into what would otherwise be a people's documentary. Linklater succeeds in creating contrasting moods that accurately portray the variety and spice of life found in a sweaty, throbbing city like Austin. It has one of my favorite endings, where both construction (the camcorders recording) and destruction (the man ditching his camera into a lake) of viewpoints meet in one abrupt climax.
Joe Bob sez check it out!
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