The title of Richard Linklater's deadpan debut feature describes a new generation of young, educated, aimless social misfits, part of a young neo-bohemian subculture of drifters, dreamers, and losers with no money, no ambitions, and no worries outside the occasional paranoid conspiracy theory. Their marginal lifestyle revolves around the concept of (in slacker vernacular) 'hanging out': eating, sleeping, watching TV, drinking coffee, and listening to the latest, local garage bands. But what they do best is simply talk, and the viewer is invited to eavesdrop on an extended series of hilarious soliloquies, anecdotes, and observations about politics, history, art, Smurfs, and UFOs, from a cast of nearly 100 genuine slackers pulled off the streets of Austin, Texas, apparently a hub of slackerdom. The film (not a documentary) is structured entirely around random encounters, methodically following one character after another, with no plot to interrupt all the verbal detours and digressions. It looks (and sounds) entirely improvised, but believe it or not was all carefully scripted and choreographed, and the result is one of the more unique and original American features of its time.
