I clearly remember when we first met. It was in a supermarket, maybe it was Sainsburrys, it was somewhere in England. I was there on holiday and you were in the supermarket hanging out on the front cover of SKY magazine.
I bought the magazine and read about your new films ‘A Night in the Life of Jimmy Reardon’, ‘Little Nikita’ and ‘Running on Empty’. I saw them all as soon they arrived at my local video store in outback Australia.
I also began repetitively drawing your portrait. over and over again I recreated the cover o f that SKY magazine in different media; sometimes pastels, sometimes a pencil sketch. An abstract minimalist version was blue-tacked to my bedroom wall forever.
Let’s be honest, not all of your films were great – but I gave them all a go. I wished there was more of you ‘I Love You to Death’ and I struggled to connect with ‘Dog Fight’ but that’s OK because just watching your face for 90 minutes was a wonderful experience in itself. It was great to see you turn up as Indiana Jones!
For years I wished I had your hair. It wanted a fringe that fell in my eyes. When I grew my hair long to be likes you, you grew yours even longer, I could never catch-up.
You talked about the environment, and being a vegetarian, you introduced me to the concept of being ‘alternative’ whether that be films, music or thinking.
Then came ‘My Own Private Idaho’, a film that none of my friends would come and see because it was too controversial. I showed my ID at the New Oxford Cinema and saw it on my own. I’ve watched this film over and over again – each time I find something new. As I’ve gotten older it’s taken on new meanings, as I’ve gained more life experience parts of it have made more sense.
And suddenly my dreams had come true because in this film you were gay too. I bought a jacket the same colour as your characters. It was almost identical.
You may have made me like country music a little more with ‘Thing Called Love’ and I saw ‘Sneakers’ at the drive-in. Then suddenly you were gone.
It was the last thing I was expecting to hear on the 6pm news. Actor River Phoenix dead at 23 from apparent drug overdose.
It was two shocks at once. You were dead, but from drugs? This isn’t who you were, or at least… it wasn’t who we knew you to be.
Your death showed me that when we are young we are not invincible. It showed me that we can change our lives for better or worse at any time. I probably started to become more cynical about things, realising that not everything is exactly what it seems.
It’s 21 years today since you left, people have written songs about you, they’ve written plays about you, and soon your last film – the one you were making when you died – will be released.
Your picture is still blue-tacked to my wall, well my desk, near my business cards and beside’s the label maker.
Graeme Watson
What are your favourite memories of River Phoenix? Sound off below in the comments.
