This is one of those movies that either haunts you forever, or leaves you completely cold. I didn't know what to make of it the first time I saw it; having seen it again, I don't think I will ever forget it. It asks the question--is there any way to live in this world that isn't a compromise of some kind? Mark (David London) and Kurt (Will Oldham) are old school friends linking up for a last weekend of boozing, pot-smoking, and camping in the woods (like they used to do) before Mark settles down and starts his life as a new father. Kurt has never settled into anything; he drifts around, living on charm and handouts (Mark ends up footing the bill for every expense incurred on the trip) and slipping in and out of various groups. At a time when so many movies and TV shows sentimentalize the perpetual adolescent "man-child", this is what the real thing looks like. Kurt doesn't have the talent or force to make a living in music; he's too unpredictable for outdoor work, and the thought of him in any corporate environment is inconceivable. Everyone who loves him ends up resenting him. Yet he's happy. Mark, the secure wage earner who has sobered up and become "reliable"--the kind of person your parents want you to know--is torn by new insecurities; he envies Kurt's life and is frightened of it, and he knows their times together are ending.
The men's friendship is completely believable; you can see how Kurt would have been the coolest teenager in the neighborhood, with square-at-heart Mark struggling to keep up. We've seen this kind of male camaraderie many times in movies, but it has rarely been the subject and the heart of a single movie. There's even a little homoeroticism implied (as there is in most close male friendships), but no big thing is made of it. At the end, we're left wondering (with Mark)--is Kurt really "free"? Can you be so purely yourself without giving up relationships, attachments, and solidity? Is it possible to exist without a certain amount of vulgar conformity--the kind that allows us to face jobs that aren't our lifelong dreams, and family obligations we can't help resenting a bit? There are no Hollywood answers here, and none of any other kind. The last shots are of Kurt, alone, with nothing but a few cigarettes, slouching down a street at night--yet he doesn't seem defeated (or particularly happy). There's no other way to end this film. And you do feel joy--of a kind that isn't worn out at all.
The men's friendship is completely believable; you can see how Kurt would have been the coolest teenager in the neighborhood, with square-at-heart Mark struggling to keep up. We've seen this kind of male camaraderie many times in movies, but it has rarely been the subject and the heart of a single movie. There's even a little homoeroticism implied (as there is in most close male friendships), but no big thing is made of it. At the end, we're left wondering (with Mark)--is Kurt really "free"? Can you be so purely yourself without giving up relationships, attachments, and solidity? Is it possible to exist without a certain amount of vulgar conformity--the kind that allows us to face jobs that aren't our lifelong dreams, and family obligations we can't help resenting a bit? There are no Hollywood answers here, and none of any other kind. The last shots are of Kurt, alone, with nothing but a few cigarettes, slouching down a street at night--yet he doesn't seem defeated (or particularly happy). There's no other way to end this film. And you do feel joy--of a kind that isn't worn out at all.
