When I was younger and less properly medicated, I would periodically and spontaneously be brought to tears over the passing of River Phoenix. I had admittedly not even seen a film he had been in, I was just enchanted by his boyish androgyny and the way he spoke in interviews I watched on YouTube. When I got Letterboxd, I knew what film I wanted to see more than anything, and I added it to my watchlist as the very first entry. My Own Private Idaho (1991) dir. Gus Van Sant. However, it took me 4 years from that day, and who knows how long since my fixation began, to watch it. I was convinced it would be too impactful; there would be a me-before-Idaho and me-after. Last night, I overcame my fear.
My Own Private Idaho follows two hustlers (Mike, who has narcolepsy, played by Phoenix, and Scott, the rebel mayor’s son, played by Keanu Reeves) on a journey loosely based on Shakespeare’s plays about King Henry to find Mike’s mother. Both Reeves and Phoenix are wonderful and the cinematography is stunning and the script is so smart and meticulous but I want to talk specifically about the honesty that runs through River Phoenix’s portrayal of Mike. Phoenix’s character lives on the street, estranged from his family, but he is unyieldingly earnest. Sure, it seems he bends the truth at the very beginning to earn ten more dollars and he nicks the coke from Bob, but Mike is honorable. This is exacerbated by his narcolepsy, which puts him at an even more vulnerable position than he is already in. He is forced to rely on the kindness of others, but he doesn’t necessarily believe in that. Near the beginning of the movie, Mike implies Scott would prostitute him off while Mike is asleep, which Scott rebukes. Mike is not unaware of the harshness of the world he lives in, but he maintains his integrity and tendency towards love.
And, of course, the campfire scene. Perhaps one of the most beautiful moments I have ever seen in a film. Here, Phoenix’s gentle, emotional approach to Mike shines. Fans of the movie are well aware of this, but most of this scene was written by Phoenix himself, including Mike’s love confession and thus the clear confirmation of the character’s queerness. This personal element imbues the scene with such tenderness, emphasized by the closeness felt due to the light of the campfire. Phoenix’s stumbling but powerful voice perfectly captures Mike’s simultaneous anxiety and urgency when speaking his revelation aloud. I honestly don’t even know how to capture how wonderful and potent this scene is in words. Just. Here: Campfire scene on YouTube
As the film continues, Mike proves his honesty over and over again. He rejects Richard’s claims about his father and he stays ever true to his mission to find his mother, bringing himself and Scott to Italy in his search. In Italy, Scott falls in love with a woman named Carmela, which devastates Mike. Scott returns to the United States with Carmela and inherits the fortune promised to him by his father and Mike returns to the Portland streets to run with the old gang, same as ever.
Scott and Mike as parallels are fascinating to me. Scott’s protectiveness over Mike emphasizes his own integrity, but ultimately he returns to the privileged life he was always meant to have. Mike’s reliance on Scott is what makes him seem so open and moral, but Mike has no other life besides the hustler one. It is almost like Scott resents how much he cares. But we know from the beginning how Scott plans on his story ending, during his soliloquy-type speech where he talks about becoming good and surprising his father. My Own Private Idaho is a circular movie in many ways. Scott turns out like he’d intended, and Mike finds himself on the road with the “fucked-up face” once more. The question remains of who picks Mike up off the road at the end. Is it Scott? Does their story continue or repeat? Is it inescapable? Is it someone malicious? Scott, despite his care for Mike, is not stuck on the life he led when he knew Mike. Mike, with his love for Scott, travels forever in the same spot.
I love this movie. This is a shorter exploration, I know. I didn’t even talk about the beautiful script, with its elevated quasi-Shakespearean language, or the cinematography, with the landscapes and the colors, or the feeling of memory that permeates throughout the film. I’m just very deeply moved by everything here and it makes me feel quiet inside. An astounding and profoundly touching film about human connection and personal meaning in a strange world.
I always know where I am by the way that the road looks.
There is Still Time 
Leave a comment