Billy Crudup (whom was only REALLY good in "Almost Famous") stars as "F***head" because that's what he is thoughout the entirety of the film. He seems to go from one tragedy to the next in this slice-of-(druggie)life drama. All of the reflections on the characters seem superficial at best. One doesn't really feel for any of them. Sure, the film wants you to relate to "F.H.", yet it fails on this level. Good films based on literature should make you want to run to your local bookstore to feed your mind with more, this film fails on this level too. Yet there are bright spots in the film, both Dennis Leary as well as Jack Black are excellent here. And Dennis Hopper is ok enough in his elongated cameo.

My Grade: C-

DVD Extras: theatrical trailer

Drifter FH (Billy Crudup) is hitchhiking. His ride gets into a crush and the family suffers a devastating loss. He recounts his meeting with Michelle (Samantha Morton) three years earlier in 1971 Iowa City when he goes to Michelle's boyfriend McInnes' party. One year later, he runs into Michelle on the street after Dundun killed McInnes. She introduces him to heroin as his life drifts along.

There is a rambling sensibility to this movie very much like FH's life. It does fit but it leaves the narrative disjointed. The story is very random. It has some hilarious moments like the emergency room although Jack Black does go overboard. It's his nature and he can't help it. Crudup is solid and fits the role snugly. Morton is amazing with her limited time. There are cool little supporting performances and unusual side trips. It has a similar theme and sense as 'Requiem for a Dream'. I could do with more Morton but this unusual little film is a winner.

Billy Crudup, as an aimless young screw-up and pill-popper in 1970s Chicago, has the mannerisms of a user down right, yet he doesn't convince as an addict. While riding on the dirty subway cars in the darkened city, interacting with the street life and the strays he seems to attract, Crudup certainly has the appropriate glassy-eyed expression and sheepish grin, but he's too lean and muscular and healthy-looking to be taken for a troubled junkie. The film, an adaptation of Denis Johnson's book of short stories, has been fairly well realized by director Alison Maclean (who has a vivid eye for detail); unfortunately, the protagonist isn't really a character at all, and this isn't entirely Crudup's fault. He hasn't been conceived as anything but a walking foul up, one with fabricated answers and--in his narration--'deep thoughts' soaked in the smugness of an elevated consciousness. Many stars help out in support, yet the film is less a dramatic achievement than an arty, somewhat indifferent passel of scenes. ** from ****