The movie came out in 1969, and it told a traditional story in ways I don’t think I’ve seen in many movies out then or before it. Take for example, on his bus ride to New York, as he passes religious signs the movie shows us brief flashbacks to his grandmother (who apparently abused him). Or what about when Joe smokes a joint at a high-class party, and the strange hypnotic music that accompanies his “high”? The visual experience of watching him progress through that night is dizzying and slightly incohesive. There are so many interesting things they try in this movie, it’s amazing the film is still effective.

When it came into theaters, it was the first movie to ever be rated X. This was probably for the nudity, but even more likely, it got slapped with the X-rating for its thematic elements. Very little nudity is shown in the movie (bare buttocks, a breast or two); so little, that today it would barely pass as an R-rated movie based on its nudity. What would push over into an R-rated movie (and in 1969, as an X-rated movie) are flashy scenes depicting rape and violence. (If you’re not watching closely, it’s possible to miss them.) And there is a morbid scene (made almost scary by the accompaniment of music) that takes place in a movie theater when Joe runs low on cash.

Joe doesn’t get so lucky when he reaches New York. He finds out the hard truth about life in a city so big: Nobody cares, half of them are crazy, and it’s hard to find friends. A man lies stretched out on a sidewalk, possibly from a stroke or heart attack, and people just walk by without noticing. Small little things like that set the mood for the movie so efficiently, you can almost say that the movie is over-the-top, and maybe a little too in your face just to make its point. (But hasn’t that many filmmakers done that since, many times without as much style?)

There is a particular sequence I’m in love with, even though it’s a rather short one. Joe sits on his bed in his dingy apartment, and he has the look on his face of the loneliest man in the world. (At that point, I would find it hard to argue with him.) As he’s watching the television, there is a quick cut to him watching television as a kid. It cuts back, and you see he’s watching some stupid talk show. A lady is showing the host her product: clothing for pets. The host asks, “Isn’t this just a way to con a lot of lonely people out of money?” Soon comes the sad, atmospheric score and the television turns off.
We see Joe walks down the crowded streets, and it keeps switching from night to day as he walks, but the scene remains the same. He’s a nobody in a crowded place, with no friend but the radio he carries by his ear. Radio commercials chant messages to him: “Your special, give yourself special treatment” (he sees another guy wearing a cowboy hat), “Need money? We love to loan it to you.”

But there is a point to this movie, besides all its depressing and emotional moments. It has a kind of sucker-punch to it; it sets you up for a story about an aspiring male prostitute, and in the end gives you a friendship story in an unlikely place. He meets another guy Ratzo Rizzo, a small-time con artist with a bum leg.
A friendship is forged between them, not because they have anything particular in common, but because they’re both lonely and need a friend. As they get to know each other, Rizzo isn’t as loathsome a character as you’d expect. He also has some insights into life many people don’t think about.

In a coffee shop they discuss spiritual matters. “If I had to the choice to come back as a dog or a president, I think I’d come back as a president,” Joe says.

Rizzo replies, “Maybe that’s something you should think about.”

There are about hundred different things I can talk about in this film, such as the montage into winter, or the sequence when Joe chases ghosts of Rizzo. Of course, this review would grow much longer. Midnight Cowboy is a movie you may have to watch twice to catch everything. It’s also a film I find I can watch it many times and still enjoy. LINK TO MAIN PAGE: GO TO MAIN PAGE