“Dazed and Confused” (1993)
Simply put, Linklater’s “Dazed and Confused,” a kaleidoscopic, free-wheeling look at the last day of school in Austin, Texas, circa 1976, is one of the best, most honest high school movies ever made, and one of the very best movies of the 1990s. It’s also the perfect confluence of Linklater’s nakedly commercial tendencies (as evidenced in things like the sunny “School of Rock“) and his more laid back, conversational interests (“Slacker,” “Waking Life,” large swaths of “A Scanner Darkly“), stitched together and interlocked with his encyclopedic love of rock music. To anyone in high school, it’s incredibly identifiable, but if you grew up in Texas, it’s as true, sacred and easily quotable as holy scripture. “Dazed and Confused” has the loosest of plots—it’s basically about a bunch of burn-outs, hippies, and dorks (like the cast of some prequel to “Freaks and Geeks“) and their various activities on the last day of school, leading up to a big blow-out of a graduation party. Linklater nimbly weaves between stories (the jock who refuses to sign an authoritarian oath to stay clean over the summer, a high school lifer terrorizing soon-to-be-freshman, and a graduate who still hangs around for all the wrong reasons), creating a sense of urgency and drive in a movie essentially made of sequences where kids sit around and shoot the shit and listen to music. Immensely re-watchable, it’s also worth noting for its “Fast Times at Ridgemont High“-like collection of future superstars, including Adam Goldberg, Matthew McConaughey, Cole Hauser, Milla Jovovich, Parker Posey and Ben Affleck, all looking like they’re having the time of their lives. You can get high just breathing in the groovy fumes from “Dazed and Confused.” [A]
“Before Sunrise” (1995)
Continuing the theme of shooting what he knew, Linklater turned one of his own personal love stories into one of the great indie romances of the ’90s. “Before Sunrise” centers on two characters, the slightly cynical but moreover dreamy romantic American Jesse (Ethan Hawke), and the idealistic but grounded French Celine (Julie Delpy). The two meet by chance and begin talking on a train from Budapest, Celine on her way back to Paris, Jesse on his way to Vienna for 24 hours before he flies back to America. He convinces her to alight in Vienna with him to continue their conversation, and so it begins, a 14-hour marathon conversation (not in real time, fortunately…) which must end, as the title implies, at sunrise. It sounds banal, but much of what they say about life, love, politics et al. is interesting and insightful, and reveals hidden depths of the two young characters still trying to “figure it out.” As their time together runs out, the two decide instead of risking their spark fizzling long distance, to instead meet up in six months in Vienna, leaving a tantalizing will they/won’t they to the ending. Linklater took great care with his casting, and he chose well, Hawke and Delpy not only put in fantastic performances, but their natural romantic tension is intoxicating; both actors are also said to have contributed uncredited work to the script, which is not hard to believe, considering the naturalism in their delivery. Between that and Linklater’s unobtrusive shooting style, full of tracking shots and extended takes, its hard to remember what you’re watching isn’t actually two people really having the most important night of their lives. [A-]
“SubUrbia” (1996)
Linklater has to be commended for taking on this film adaptation of Eric Bogosian’s play, if only for attempting to critically dismantle the lifestyle he’d observed since his debut. That said, what remains is a very ’90s misfire that feels especially juvenile for all its philosophizing. Town-boy-made-rockstar Pony (Jayce Bartok) returns to the nondescript neighborhood he called home and briefly reconnects with former slacker friends, his appearance forcing them to reexamine their lives. The fact that most of the film plays out in front of a 24-hour convenience store minded by Indian clerk Nazeer (Ajay Naidu), whose accent makes him the butt of several jokes, should give you an idea of the cultural headspace the uniformly strong cast plays in. Giovanni Ribisi leads the charge as malcontent mouthpiece Jeff, spouting regrets about his station, or lack thereof in life, while Amie Carey, Parker Posey, Steve Zahn, Dina Spybey, and a particularly notable Nicky Katt alternately stew or rage. It’s a dated film, and while Linklater doesn’t misstep as a technical artist here, he’s fenced in by the sourpuss subject matter and the film feels unmemorable as a result. However, the soundrack is notable for being a quintessential snapshot of ’90s alternative, featuring Sonic Youth, Elastica with Stephen Malkmus, Beck, Superchunk, The Flaming Lips and more. [C-]
