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The darker side of addiction has few consolations, but once the fun has worn off, there is always the camaraderie
with fellow practitioners. Substance abuse sets the user in opposition to rational, sane living. No matter how well the
addict may seem to be functional, it is understood that the drug is more important than the mundane business of life.
For the assembled bunch in Trainspotting, narrator Renton and his friends, good-looking, easygoing Sick Boy, the
tragic neophyte Tommy, even moron Spud and the truly deranged Begbie, heroin provides the canvas upon which
they the pastiche are painted.
None can really understand such drug urgency as can another addict, so shared humor, desperation and
understanding among peers provides relief. Shared complicity in every way. Lies and evasions are unnecessary
among friends who share the same needs. Addiction leads to an unmanageable, exhausting, intensely uncomfortable
daily routine; only two things make it bearable: a supply of the drug of choice, and the understanding of fellow addicts.
Former alcoholics and drug abusers often report that they don't miss the substances as much as the conditions under
which they were used -- the camaraderie of the true drinkers' bar, for example, where the standing joke is that the
straight world just doesn't get it, doesn't understand that the disease is life and the treatment is another drink. For this
lot, the remedy and only response to genuine horror is simply another injection. There is fierce joy in their lives, but
shared anguish that is every waking moment not spent high. They are beyond hope and redemption. Suffer the
innocent, appalling things happen; that's life. Death is the cure. Thus heroin.
The movie is about longtime heroin addicts in Edinburgh. Well, OK, they're sociopaths. Each in their own way. Witness
a dream sequence in ``the filthiest toilet in Scotland'' chasing mislaid drugs; debate Sick Boy's (Jonny Lee Miller)
theories about Sean Connery's inevitable decline, sans pathetic empathy even for Scotland's greatest treasure; recoil
at Spud's (Ewen Bremner) messy laundry! Driving the story is Robert Carlyle, genius as Begbie, a most heartless
compadre, he the only non-user; but all suffer from neglect and feel nothing.
Only young Ewan McGregor in his breakout role has a connection to anything real, in his parents and (underage)
girlfriend, a fine turn by a young Kelly McDonald. In his escape to London, accomplished detoxee Renton is the
epitome of success. Living clean. Cashing in. Can he ever go home again? Can he escape once and for all his sad lot
amongst the assembled, destined for oblivion? Must our lives, our friends always own us so? In the final analysis, to
whom must one be true?
The cult of ``Trainspotting'' owes much to the film's colorful vocabulary, energy, and soundtrack. Ultimately, the film
elevates its miserable heroes to the status of icons. Such fierce friends should always hold a place in one's heart.
From afar.
edited by KC
with fellow practitioners. Substance abuse sets the user in opposition to rational, sane living. No matter how well the
addict may seem to be functional, it is understood that the drug is more important than the mundane business of life.
For the assembled bunch in Trainspotting, narrator Renton and his friends, good-looking, easygoing Sick Boy, the
tragic neophyte Tommy, even moron Spud and the truly deranged Begbie, heroin provides the canvas upon which
they the pastiche are painted.
None can really understand such drug urgency as can another addict, so shared humor, desperation and
understanding among peers provides relief. Shared complicity in every way. Lies and evasions are unnecessary
among friends who share the same needs. Addiction leads to an unmanageable, exhausting, intensely uncomfortable
daily routine; only two things make it bearable: a supply of the drug of choice, and the understanding of fellow addicts.
Former alcoholics and drug abusers often report that they don't miss the substances as much as the conditions under
which they were used -- the camaraderie of the true drinkers' bar, for example, where the standing joke is that the
straight world just doesn't get it, doesn't understand that the disease is life and the treatment is another drink. For this
lot, the remedy and only response to genuine horror is simply another injection. There is fierce joy in their lives, but
shared anguish that is every waking moment not spent high. They are beyond hope and redemption. Suffer the
innocent, appalling things happen; that's life. Death is the cure. Thus heroin.
The movie is about longtime heroin addicts in Edinburgh. Well, OK, they're sociopaths. Each in their own way. Witness
a dream sequence in ``the filthiest toilet in Scotland'' chasing mislaid drugs; debate Sick Boy's (Jonny Lee Miller)
theories about Sean Connery's inevitable decline, sans pathetic empathy even for Scotland's greatest treasure; recoil
at Spud's (Ewen Bremner) messy laundry! Driving the story is Robert Carlyle, genius as Begbie, a most heartless
compadre, he the only non-user; but all suffer from neglect and feel nothing.
Only young Ewan McGregor in his breakout role has a connection to anything real, in his parents and (underage)
girlfriend, a fine turn by a young Kelly McDonald. In his escape to London, accomplished detoxee Renton is the
epitome of success. Living clean. Cashing in. Can he ever go home again? Can he escape once and for all his sad lot
amongst the assembled, destined for oblivion? Must our lives, our friends always own us so? In the final analysis, to
whom must one be true?
The cult of ``Trainspotting'' owes much to the film's colorful vocabulary, energy, and soundtrack. Ultimately, the film
elevates its miserable heroes to the status of icons. Such fierce friends should always hold a place in one's heart.
From afar.
edited by KC
| WRITTEN BY IRVINE WELSH DIRECTED BY DANNY BOYLE |
