“I was probably eight or nine, a child of the postwar boom, and on vacation with my family at the Jersey shore. We had stopped at a convenience store on the way home from a day at the beach, and I was pawing through the store’s magazine rack while my mother shopped. I don’t remember picking up the magazine, but it opened to a page which stopped and startled me. Two mostly naked teenagers were posed for a picture titled “Victor and Vanquished,” one slung over the other’s shoulders—the spoils of a heated but not unfriendly war. Both boys were smiling, exhilarated, but I was fixated on their points of contact, especially where the naked groin of the Vanquished touched the Victor’s bare shoulder. What did that feel like? What could that feel like? Thinking about it made me dizzy and more aroused than I realized.”
Biographical research can take months, even years, to complete, and what ultimately emerges is less the subject than the writer’s own interpretation of them. Each fragment of evidence is like a piece of a puzzle, capable of reviving a forgotten voice and transforming the long-dead into someone who feels familiar. A stranger, in this way, can become a companion. Yet history is often selective; newspaper obituaries frequently concealed as much as they revealed, and what we wish to believe is rarely the full truth.
Boys become preoccupied with physical appearance, allowing looks to dictate their interests and choices. This focus can lead them to overlook potential dangers or flaws that are not immediately visible. The allure of beauty often blinds them to what lies beneath the surface. Strip away those layers of clothing and he might have the most appalling skin condition. He might grind his teeth while asleep, and the next morning have awful bad breath. Despite being unaware of these hidden dangers, the risk is taken simply because he appears beautiful. By the time these flaws are realised, it is often too late; yet the cycle continues as attention shifts to the next attractive individual. The pursuit of beauty becomes an ongoing search, with lessons seldom learned and the superficial chase never-ending.
Wiry little fucker—blonde hair, tattoos. Apologies to the Arctic Monkeys. The boy’s a slag, the best you’ve ever had. The sex was brutal, violent—and it was wonderful. But it was only a dream. I woke up, realised none of it had happened… and now I can’t look him in the face anymore.
ABOUT LIKING ATTENTION JAKE NEVINS: How does it feel to be thirsted over by left-leaning gay men? HARRY SISSON: Hahahaha well I’m personally straight so it’s not something that interests me, but I don’t hate! Thirst if you wanna thirst, I won’t stop you.
CHARLIE SHEEN ON HAVING SEX WITH MEN “And in whatever chunks of time that I was off the pipe, trying to navigate that, trying to come to terms with it — ‘Where did that come from?… Why did that happen?’ — and then just finally being like, ‘So what?’ So what? Some of it was weird. A lot of it was fucking fun. And life goes on.”
TALKING WITH ETHAN “How are you getting on with Leon? Do you like him?” Ethan asked. “Good, but not really my type.” He seemed exasperated. “You don’t recognise him?” “Nope,” was my honest answer. “Are you pissing with me?” I shook my head and made a face. “I’ve never seen the guy before.” “Does that mean that you talk like normal people?” “It does,” I replied.
LISTENING TO ARTIE “The picture’s painted, I’ve been denied, the artist couldn’t fit me in, there wasn’t room for me inside. What else can I do when someone doesn’t want you?” – Art Garfunkel singing When Someone Doesn’t Want You… brilliant!
ON LYING ABOUT AGE “How old are you? Social media is so frickin’ secretive.” I was careful with my answer. “ I am the age that you imagine me to be.”
The curtains quiver, the window blows open and into the room flies a lovely boy clad only in cobwebs and autumn leaves and the juices that ooze out of trees.
My Own Private Idaho. Keanu Reeves and River Phoenix. Promotional still (1991)
Scott: I only have sex with a guy for money.
Mike: Yeah, I know.
Scott: And two guys can’t love each other.
Mike: Yeah.
Mike: Well, I don’t know. I mean… I mean, for me, I could love someone even if I, you know, wasn’t paid for it… I love you, and… you don’t pay me.
Scott: Mike…
Mike: I really wanna kiss you, man… Well goodnight, man… I love you though… You know that… I do love you.
***
Watched ‘My Own Private Idaho’ for the first time. Charlie asked me if I’d seen Keanu Reeves recently because he looked old. But he was 61-years-old. River Phoenix still looks exactly the same… but that was how he left things. I remembered that I’d mentioned Phoenix before… but in one of my stories, he had appeared as a ghost.
It wasn’t going to be called ‘My Own Private Idaho’… better than ‘Blue Funk’ or ‘Minions of the Moon’… and named after a B-52s song. Inspired by Shakespeare’s Henry IV plays… Prince Hal and Hotspur and Falstaff… but here it was Scott Favor, privileged bisexual, Mike Waters, narcoleptic gay hustler searching for his mother, and Bob Pigeon, coke-dealing chickenhawk. Gus Van Sant: “My films are usually about relationships. I think you make films about things you lack.”
I can’t stop thinking about River Phoenix because, I guess, I’m in love with yet another dead man.
1987… “Run to the rescue with love and peace will follow.” – River Phoenix.
1989… Star burning bright. Beautiful. Lightness. Creative. Camera object.
1991… Indie moment. ‘My Own Private Idaho’. Realism to fantasy. Challenging the norm. Self-destructive attitudes. Dark themes. Cool culture. Downbeat hustlers. Wanderers. A chance to become an adult actor. Gus Van Sant simply being Gus Van Sant.
Keanu Reeves laying in bed playing with his nipple. What River Phoenix needed after making this movie – a bath, a shave, an exfoliating facial scrub.
“How do you see yourself fitting in with younger Hollywood acting?” (A sweet voice). “I don’t see any of them in the perspective or in the limelight of Hollywood. I really don’t ever want to get that objective or self-consciousness of my place in this world of showbusiness.”
1993… LA nightclub. Halloween. Music blasting. Sitting on a couch. Tired. Intoxicated. Skinny. Bad skin. Ticking time bombs. Heroine. Cocaine. Morphine. Marajuana. Valium. Cold remedies. Addiction is an open secret here. And then the star exploded all over the pavement. Never did anyone move from casual drug use to death so quickly. The night that Fellini died – ‘A director’s sweet life. An actor’s brief life.’
Retrospective.
2025… ‘My Own Private Idaho’. Turning point. A troubling effect. Midnight rock sessions. Alcohol. Uncontrollable drug use. Crystal meth. Hooked. No chance of going back now. Progressive and fatal. Like ‘The Little Shop of Horrors’…if you go too near to the plant it will eat you. The best performance… but from now on he didn’t care enough about himself to look after himself. What about those he left behind? Nobody did anything to help him when he was alive… guilt… and lasting sadness.
Have a nice day!
My Own Private Idaho. Keanu Reeves and River Phoenix. Promotional still (1991)
My Own Private Idaho. Keanu Reeves and River Phoenix. Movie poster (1991)
James shuffled the pack and gave one card to each of four strangers. His face gave nothing away. A cunning smile. He was Madame Delphine de Girardin entertaining Victor Hugo. Cards face down. One by one we turned them over. Julian. Four of diamonds. “Mummy’s favourite.” Olivia. Six of spades. “Vixen.” Shannon. Five of hearts. “Daddy’s princess.” I turned my card. Ace of diamonds. A sigh. “Shameless boy.” This was fun, I thought.
“We speak of the body of the young man at his fullest development, just on the brink of maturity, a young man who has retained some of his original innocence. The model for the classic Greek was the young athlete, from an aristocratic family, who competed in the nude in the original Olympic Games. It is not until later that the natural male form was used as a medium for the expression of godliness, an idea that later became the basis for a popular religious sect. A look back through the twentieth century will demonstrate just how long the Beautiful Boy has been absent from our field of vision. Examine the popular male images of the past 60 years. How many of them have been both young and beautiful?”
The soul of a good time. But something changed. I’m not a social person anymore, but everybody wants me to be. They talk shit all night. I want to say, “Please go away, I prefer my own company now.”
Perfectly Hard and Glamorous 