My Own Private Idaho (1991) Artfully Avoids Explanation or Easy Narratives

May 21, 2024 — My Own Private Idaho (1991)

4/5 Stars

This is a fragmented drug trip of a movie. Flashbacks of farmhouses, surrounded by fields with mountains in the distance. The Idaho countryside is a ravishing place with relentless wind and endless roads that say “have a nice day”.

I’m not sure where to start with this film, so I’ll start with what I know: though the story follows Mikey (River Pheonix), the real star is Scott (Keanu Reeves) who seems to portray an effortless cool. Part of this, no doubt, comes from Reeves’ performance, but it’s also evident in the structure of the film. Scott and Mikey are best friends, and on top of that, Mikey is in love with him. Bob (William Richert), a joker and a stronger father figure to Scott than his own father, also happens to be in love with Scott. After all, who isn’t in love with Keanu Reeves?

Though it may be too much to say this film is ‘based on’ Shakespeare in the sense that most adaptations are, a good part of My Own Private Idaho’s (1991) plot is taken from Shakespeare’s Henry IV Part 1 and Henry IV Part 2. Mikey and Scott, along with Bob (our Falstaff to Scott’s Prince Hal) and the rest of the ramshackle crew who take up in an abandoned theater and share stories of sexual abuse they’ve suffered as hustlers, make a suitable parallel to the drunks in Shakespeare’s pub. As in Henry IV Part 1, Mikey and Scott play a trick on Bob, robbing him after he robs a group of rock musicians; Scott has a wealthy (if not royal) father and is ‘heir’ to an inheritance, one that he’ll earn when he turns 21.

Scott also says he’ll leave this way of life when everyone least expects it in the same way that Prince Hal says he’ll redeem himself (if not quite with Shakespeare’s wit: “I’ll so offend, to make offence a skill; / Redeeming time when men think least I will”). Because the film follows Mikey, not Scott, when Scott eventually leaves the motley group of hustlers with a girl he picked up in Italy on a trip with Mikey, his sudden absence burns. Mikey is never the same after Scott tells him two men can’t love each other; an emotional blow that I felt alongside Mikey as the viewer.

From the Shakespearean angle, Mikey is Poins, Hal’s friend. But to take the movie by itself, I’m not fully convinced this series of events makes sense. Perhaps, though, it doesn’t have to make sense at all. Films like this make me wonder about my expectations when I sit down to watch a movie. It’s not Gus Van Sant’s fault if I don’t understand his film, nor is it necessarily his job to explain it to me. I don’t want films that are ‘easy’ and I don’t want to be patronized like a toddler with a verbatim explanation. But to an extent, it is a filmmaker’s job to construct a narrative, isn’t it?

My Own Private Idaho (1991) is certainly well-constructed, well-edited, and fantastically acted. The cinematography, too, is a sight to see. The shot of Mikey walking into a black room with the Italian country behind him is pure, cinematic beauty. The concept of conveying sex scenes through a series of 1–3 second clips, still bodies without movement, is unique and original as well, even if I am not sure what to make of it. But the film feels disconnected, and actions seem to happen with little causation.

This disconnect is in part explained by Mikey’s narcolepsy, which causes him to collapse at stressful moments throughout the film. He isn’t in full control of himself, or his place in society; he’s drifting from one moment to the next, half present, if he’s even conscious, attempting to find his mother. Mikey fails utterly at this, again and again, always ending up back on that same, smiling road. This lack of control is conveyed well in the film, and it is a kind of horror in itself (one Scott never seems to feel; I wonder if this is why Mikey is so attached to him).

Still, this cruelty borders on the gratuitous. Why, for instance, does Mikey return to prostitution after he arrives in Portland? Scott gave him his share of the money for the motorcycle they sold, and it looked like enough to keep him stable for at least a few weeks. Perhaps it wasn’t; but again, this is unexplained, and we never see that wad of cash again. Is this simply what Mikey’s used to? Does he think this is the only way he’ll see Scott again? Or is it ultimately a preferable alternative to living in his father’s trailer?

Van Sant artfully avoids giving any explanation, but I couldn’t stop watching to see if he would.