Director Richard Linklater kicks off his breakout film with his own rambling, pseudo-philosophical speech, delivered to the taxi driver who is chauffeuring him through the streets of Austin, Texas. Many such speeches will be made in the vignettes that follow, given by all manner of fringe artists, conspiracy theorists, college dropouts and unemployed graduates, all of whom I suppose could be categorized under the catchall phrase “slacker.” Yet this being Linklater, they’re each observed with a bemused humanism, best summed up by a scribbled note someone reads from a postcard: “He thinks that differences are minor compared to the similarities.” It’s this sensibility, which would only blossom in Linklater’s later films, that makes up for what is otherwise a ramshackle experience (especially when it comes to the acting). Meanwhile, pretension is kept at bay by the fact that whenever someone is holding court, the others in the scene barely seem to be listening – including, amusingly, Linklater’s own driver.
