Suffused with an intoxicating, ironic mixture of longing and apathy, Gus Van Sant's Mala Noche, which put the independent auteur on the map back in 1985, plays like a revelation after all these years. Shot for a penny in Portland, Oregon, this story of a gay liquor-store clerk's passion for a young illegal Mexican immigrant was admired back in the day for its frank depiction of gay desire, coupled with its unwillingness to politicize its then-controversial subject matter — a rejection of cheap topicality also visible in some of the director's later films, like Elephant.
Though an early triumph for the burgeoning Queer Cinema, Mala Noche today seems to presage much of Van Sant's later career. The director has always been a poet of sublimated desire, but on the surface, Johnny (Doug Cooeyate) would not seem to be a typical protagonist for this filmmaker. After all, he is quite open in his expression of desire for Roberto (Ray Monge). But there's still something mysterious about Johnny's yearning. As Roberto rejects his advances, he finds himself spiraling into other relationships and an increasing sense of desperation. And this is where Van Sant's strength lies, showing the way that desire percolates into the world at large, transforming one's environment. His depiction of seedy, rain-soaked night streets may have been admired at the time for its gritty, chiaroscuro realism — but today, it plays like a landscape of the soul. — Bilge Ebiri
DVD EXTRAS: Criterion's beautiful transfer is the real story here, doing justice at long last to the film's striking lighting and Van Sant's visual bravado. But the extras are fascinating as well: a video interview with the always outgoing Van Sant is insightful and engaging, and a Bill Plympton documentary about Walt Curtis, author of the book Mala Noche, offers a glimpse into the milieu from which the film emerged.