The Rick-trospective: Dazed and Confused
A salute to Richard Linklater's body of work, one film at a time
In honor of the November 7 release of Paste Movies Editor Michael Dunaway’s documentary 21 Years: Richard Linklater (in which Paste is the media partner), we’re going through the indie master’s entire oeuvre in order, film by amazing film.
Like many of you, my introduction to Richard Linklater came in high school with his first feature, Slacker, which, to this day, is one of the first images that pops into my mind when I hear the phrase “independent film.” Made on the cheap, using non-professional actors, and told in an unusually structured, seemingly plotless way, it’s the kind of movie that, especially at the time, when the new wave of American independent cinema was quietly building steam on the down low, a 15- or 16-year-old kid might spend weekends getting high on a couch in a buddy’s basement and watching, dissecting the philosophical ramifications of each individual segment, as well as the movie as a whole. Linklater’s follow-up feature, Dazed and Confused, served a similar purpose, though in a very different way.
Whereas Slacker is, in many respects, the quintessential early indie movie, Dazed and Confused is more of a mainstream translation of many of the themes and ideas explored in the previous film, putting them on display in a publicly accessible manner. I saw this in the theater, which, in my hometown, a small Navy outpost in the Pacific Northwest, is somewhere you never would have found a screening of anything like Slacker. At the time, I didn’t even know it was the same director, and to be honest, I was still forming my idea of what that meant and means, and these two films helped drive that home.
Once I realized the authorial connection and learned the same filmmaker was responsible for both films, I rewatched them—granted, this has been more than 20 years at this point—and the similarities became more and more pronounced. Dazed is obviously the more approachable of the two—we’ve all been through a last day of school, moved on to new, terrifying futures we only vaguely understand, and attempted to figure out exactly where we fit in our worlds—but they share obvious strands of DNA.
It moves with a similar fluidity to Slacker. The scope of Dazed is less sprawling and more reined in, featuring a limited, closed-off world that keeps circling back on itself, but that episodic nature that is key to both is still in play. Over the course of one night—the traditional cinematic one-night-that-changes-everything—you check in with various groups and sets as they progress through the evening, interpreting their experiences, internalizing them, and being changed in the process.
The parallels between the two films are never more apparent than in the early going of Dazed, when the kids are still at school, killing the last hours of the year when we all know that nothing, at least in the spectrum of traditional education, is being learned. There’s a whole wealth of knowledge changing hands, but ain’t none of it written down in any textbook you’ve ever encountered.
Scenes from this stage of the film could practically be lifted from Slacker, or at least be chaotic rants left on the cutting room floor, as you flow seamlessly from one group to the next. You have youthful philosophical observations like the “old age suppressing youth thing,” an interesting take on gender dynamics with the women’s bathroom Gilligan’s Island discussion (even if the Professor is sexy), and the obviously bra-burning feminist teacher telling her students that as they partake in all the bicentennial festivities what they’re really celebrating is a bunch of “slave-owning, aristocratic white men didn’t want to pay their taxes.”