For a very long time the only way to own Rubin & Ed (1991) was on VHS. For the better part of my life I tried to locate this indie cult classic in the wild to little avail. Rubin & Ed was one of those “must-see” movies that was always elusive. That is until Sony released a bare-bones Blu-Ray of Rubin & Ed in 2020. Luckily this home video release allowed viewers to discover Rubin & Ed anew and revel in its oddball humor.
Rubin & Ed tells the story of two complete opposites who, through some unique shared experiences, form a kind of bond. Rubin (Crispin Glover) is a reclusive eccentric mourning the death of his cat Simon. Under duress from his mother, Rubin agrees to go out and make a friend. In so doing Rubin meets Ed (Howard Hessemen), a middle aged man who works for The Organization recruiting people off the street to attend seminars on “power through positive real-estate”. Rubin cons Ed, hijacks his car and drives off into the Utah desert to find the perfect place to lay Simon (stashed in a cooler) to rest. Unfortunately being stranded in the desert is just the beginning of Ed’s problems.
Rubin & Ed follows in the tradition of buddy movies like Planes, Trains & Automobiles (1987) but with a darker side that leans more in the direction of Mikey and Nicky (1976). Stylistically, filmmaker Trent Harris’ vision is nothing like either of these earlier films. Harris is a master of “out of left-field” anachronisms and quirky specificity (“Andy Warhol Sucks A Big One”). Rubin’s dream sequence is as bizarre as anything David Lynch ever put on film while also being terribly heartbreaking. The weirdos in Rubin & Ed are just strange enough to feel real. However, the most memorable parts of Rubin & Ed likely come from Trent Harris’ anxiety inducing images of the oppressive desert where the heroes are stranded. These long sequences are uncomfortably visceral.
There is an underlying dichotomy to Rubin & Ed. The two protagonists are two sides of the same coin. Rubin mourns the loss of his beloved cat Simon at the detriment of his over bearing mother while Ed clings to the ideologies of The Organization as he avoids facing the reality of his divorce much to the chagrin of his ex-wife. For these two men women are almost unknowable outside of maternal authority roles. In many ways it is this perceived threat to their masculinity that unites them. There are superficial elements to this dichotomy as well, such as age and temperament, but these qualities don’t run as deep in terms of dictating the nature of the camaraderie between Ed and Rubin.
The moment that Ed and Rubin truly come together is in the “cave of the Echo People” where Simon is finally interred. The offbeat insanity of the film breaks for a moment of realistically awkward vulnerability as Ed says a prayer for Simon that brings Rubin to tears. In this moment, for the first time, the two men understand each other. Their actions say more than words, but the subtextual meaning is impossible to miss. The stoic approach to masculine vulnerability in this scene between two would-be enemies is what links Rubin & Ed more closely to Mikey and Nicky where the tragedy of masculinity is the inability to be completely honest and open.
Rubin & Ed is weird, profound and ultimately very silly. Personally I’d rank Rubin & Ed alongside Clifford (1994), The Second Civil War (1997), and The Linguini Incident (1990) as one of the most underrated and under-seen American comedies of the nineties. Rubin & Ed is an essential film in the canon of American Independent cinema deserving of popular recognition.
