I almost let this one go after about fifteen minutes. The woman run over by a Slacker without remorse was cruel, heartless. I have a problem with Tarantino for the same reason. Violence may be beautiful if you're a pervert. For this episodic comedy, the underground world of college comic books comes alive. The nerd is glorified; the quirky chick is puffed up. These folks read a lot, talk a lot, but in truth, they're ignorant of Western Culture. Aristotle, George Washington, or Sigmund Freud, who are they? They know Marx, Charles Whitman (the nut case that shot a bunch of students from a campus tower) or conspiracies from space ship landings to Kennedy assassins. Then they go to a grunge-style rock club to end the evening, have sex for five minutes, and then start all over again. They're glib, pretty in a canvas sneaker way, but without a clue at twenty-five. Ah, American leisure! I liked the amateur actor, low-keyed approach by kids that have probably become suburban homemakers or your kid's English teacher by now. Linklater made a commercial film called Dazed and Confused after Slackers. It's more satisfying emotionally because there's an element of reality in his high school kids. They desperately know that youth is temporary. The slackers of Austin lack passion.
