Whenever themes relevant to a particular minority group are explored in art, there's the danger of that art being labeled a "For Us, By Us" endeavor. Such is the issue surrounding New Queer Cinema. Though much of it is designed to shock the straight majority and ultimately to politicize the films themselves, some of the finest works from the movement aren't really intended as agit-prop. Such is the case with Gus Van Sant's 1991 (minor) masterpiece, My Own Private Idaho.

Gus Van Sant is a rather eclectic director, not just thematically but stylistically. While today he's famous for high-profile flicks like Good Will Hunting and Milk, he has humbler roots. His early work doesn't just feel like the simultaneously gritty and stylized films of the American Independent scene, a lot of it also plays like foreign cinema. My Own Private Idaho is a weird, dreamy mix of stories thrown together like a collage featuring recurring characters. The queer elements of the movie are front and center, but they aren't just there for their own sake. That's what sets this film apart from other equally expressive projects in the movement like Derek Jarman's adaptation of Shakespeare's Edward II.

Shakespeare in mind, some (but not all) of Idaho is an extremely loose adaptation of Henry IV, Part One. Keanu Reeves fills the role of the almost-king, Scott Favor. Reeves is, in my opinion, half an underrated actor and half a misused actor. His career is 2/3 a failed attempt at achieving believable action stardom and an occasional jaunt into ill-advised romantic projects. The truth is that Keanu Reeves shines in dark, complicated roles and the occasional ironic comedy. In Idaho he plays a street hustler who's just biding his time until his father, the mayor of Portland, Oregon, gives him a promised inheritance on his 21st birthday.

This sets up the little bit of queer commentary in the film, and it's mostly an emotional observation rather than a political point. Scott indulges in the gay scene as a sort of game, a reckless grab at freedom. When the opportunity arises to live a square (re: straight) life minus the drudgery of work or any potential discomfort, he leaves his old self behind completely.

The same can't be said for our protagonist, Mike. Perhaps the finest role in the brief, tragic career of River Phoenix, Mike has no means to escape his troubled life. He finds some measure of happiness in the love he has for Scott, but he knows he can't follow Scott into his new life, try as he might. Ultimately, Van Sant sets up a parallel of fate between these two characters. Scott has choice while Mike is subject to randomness. The universe is just as likely to steal Mike's boots as it is to rescue his unconscious form from the side of the road.

My Own Private Idaho is too experimental to do anything but stand on its own. Not all of its elements work and none of them function consistently. Van Sant's purple prose is alternately charming and stilted, the cavalcade of weird characters is both fun and disturbing, even the odd mash of barely-related stories fluctuates between feeling like an adventure and feeling like three unfinished films. Still, it's an unforgettable work of art.