My Own Private Idaho

with River Phoenix, Keanu Reeves, James Russo
Written and directed by Gus Van Sant (Miramax, 1991)
by Mark Phinney

When I first laid eyes on My Own Private Idaho my senior year in high school, I had around, say, 200 revelations in the space of ninety minutes. Among them: 1) I found a new love for River Phoenix and high respect for the tragedy he oozed in what I consider his finest role ever. He did two more films after this, but to me, this was his last; 2) I gained a deeper appreciation for Willie Shakespeare’s take on rebellious ruffians who are actually heirs to the throne; 3) my hatred for Keanu Reeves grew to gigantic proportions.

I have to tell you, I walked out of this film looking for a quick hustle in the zone. (What do you mean, Mark? Are we talking football here? – ed.) Gus (Drugstore Cowboy) Van Sant took the story of Henry IV and threw it to the streets of Portland, Oregon, where the trashy flesh-peddlers and addicts roam the text on a pilgrimage into the void. All the lessons I learned from Morrissey were finally tied up for me.

Phoenix plays Mikey, a narcoleptic hustler on a desperate search for his long-lost mother (seen only in choppy home movies), along with Scotty (Reeves), his trusty companion. Enter Bob, the Falstaff to Scotty’s young Prince Hal, who will soon rise from the streets to take his rightful place as heir to his father’s throne. For all the Shakespearited discourse that relationship entails, it is still, hands down, River’s star that shines brightest in this beautiful story. His brooding meanderings both on the road and amongst his peers are textbook James Dean; those glances and stares into space are priceless. Van Sant pieces together Idaho through flashbacks, real time, and hilarious fantasy sequences, and ties it all up with the Pogues’ “Old Main Drag,” the perfect wayward end to the perfect wayward film.