A young man (the then-30-year-old writer, director and producer Linklater) gets off a bus in Austin, hails a cab, and tells the driver about his theory that every choice we make in life creates an alternate universe where the choice we didn’t make becomes its own reality—every choice made in that new reality then splits off into its own set of alternate realities, in a potentially infinite series of parallel lives. The disinterested cabbie lets him out and drives away. The young man sees an old woman lying in the street, obviously a victim of a hit and run driver. A few other folks gather around, and the young man walks off to call someone on the pay phone.
With that, he’s gone, and we move on to another person. In this case, it’s the guy who ran over the old woman, who just happened to be his mother. After he’s arrested, we follow another character, and another. We don’t spend more than a few minutes with an individual and their story before going on to the next one.
Mostly young, mostly white, largely college educated, yet disaffected, the term slacker wasn’t as common in 1990-91 as it is now. Much like the film itself, the subjects—conspiracy theorists, artists, bookworms, anarchists and the like—drift along, passionately discussing what they want to do, what they would do, if only they had more energy.
While Slacker plays well and does a fine job of holding viewers interest, it isn’t the perfect film. At 100 minutes, it goes on a bit too long. However, just when the film starts to meander off track, it tilts again and presents another compelling person. Things end abruptly with a group of revelers, forcing viewers to reflect on the seemingly randomness of the entire endeavor. Was there a point to the whole thing, or did Linklater simply film these ‘outcasts’ as a kind of voyeur exercise? The possibilities are endless, but one things for sire: Slacker spoke to a generation of filmgoers and filmmakers, spawning countless imitators that never quite capture the intrigue of Richard Linklater’s work.
Shot in 16mm, the film is presented in the 1.33:1 aspect ratio. Criterion’s 1080p transfer is a solid one, exhibiting a strong level of sharpness and above average detail. Flesh tones and colors are accurate, representing the area in and around Austin very well. Naturally, the home movie look at the end of the film is grainer than the rest, but it works well. If there’s one slight gripe, it’s the fact that black levels aren’t quite as strong as they could be throughout.
The DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 stereo surround track doesn’t actually offer much in the way of surround. Thankfully, the track is clean and crisp. Dialogue is easy to understand except for a few instances where the actors mumble a bit.
English SDH subtitles are included.
The following special features are available:
- Three Audio Commentaries: Writer/director Richard Linklater has one track to himself and shares another with director of photography Lee Daniel and producer Clark Walker. The third track features twelve members of the cast—Rudy Basquez, Louis Black, Jerry Delony, Sarah Harman, Gina Lalli, R. Malice, Scott Marcus, Kathy McCarty, Scott Rhodes, John Slate, Kalman Spelletich, and Wammo—who recorded their comments in sessions in 2001 and 2004.
- No Longer/Not Yet (HD) A look through pages from the original script.
- Casting (HD, 14:43) A look at pages of casting ideas. We then get to see the cast audition tapes.
- Taco and a Half After Ten (HD, 12:00) Director Richard Linklater and his crew do some location scouting, and have a bit of fun.
- Ain’t No Film in That Shit (HD, 28:24) A a collection of thirteen deleted scenes and alternate takes.
- Theatrical Trailer (HD, 2:50)
- “…End of Interview!” (HD, 20:03) Home movies shot in 2001 during the ten-year anniversary screening of Slacker at Liberty Bank and at the Paramount Theatre in Austin, Texas. Director Richard Linklater and many of the key characters from the film were present.
- Viva Les Amis Trailer (HD, 10:33) A trailer for Nancy Higgins’ documentary Viva Les Amis. (Les Amis was a legendary cafe in Austin, Texas loved by students, professors, artists, and slackers. Soon after Slacker was released, Les Amis went out of business.
- Woodshock (HD, 7:18) A short film shot in Super 8 back in 1985. It concerns the Woodshock concert series, a local music festival.
- It’s Impossible to Learn to Plow by Reading Books (HD, 126:02) Richard Linklater’s first feature film, which he shot on Super 8mm. With an optional audio commentary, recorded for Criterion in 2004.
- Booklet: Sixty-eight page booklet containing essays by author and filmmaker John Pierson and Michael Barker, as well as reviews, production notes, and introduction to It’s Impossible to Learn to Plow by Reading Books by director Monte Hellman.
