text: "Midnight Cowboy" was never a great movie to start with but it is a classic. You know it's a classic the moment its insistent theme song, 'Everybody's Talking' starts up on the soundtrack, (actually not written for the film), and the way the camera introduces us to Joe Buck, (naked and in the shower). We had seen Jon Voight before but had never really noticed him but when he tells us he's 'one helluva stud' who's to doubt him? This was a great performance that had iconic star status as well as a complete grasp of the character and if Voight had never done anything else, his performance here would still be legendary. As it is Voight has seldom disappointed on screen; even a piece of ham as well cured as his performance in that glorious rubbish "Anaconda" is a source of pleasure).<br /><br />The film became famous and infamous almost overnight. It was a crowd-pleaser, (even with its downbeat ending), funny and sexy and recognizably 'real'; (it was the tail-end of the sixties and all the characters rang true). It was also the first 'X' rated film to win the Oscar as the year's Best Picture. Adapted, (brilliantly), by Waldo Salt from a James Leo Herlihy novel it was probably the first main-stream commercial American movie to deal with 'taboo' subjects such as homosexuality and drug-taking in a matter-of-fact manner. Everyone is recognizably human, warts and all, and everyone is treated sympathetically. Voight's Joe Buck is an innocent abroad, a Candide who comes to New York to seek his fortune as a hustler, (a profession he sees as glamorous and not seedy; he's a cross between a gigolo and a social worker). But when he himself is hustled by a scraggy, wormy little con-man called 'Ratso' Rizzo, (Dustin Hoffman, fresh from "The Graduate" and he's a revelation), he realizes that perhaps the reality is a little different from the pipe-dream.<br /><br />Essentially it's a male love story, (though totally platonic), between these two not so unlikely bedfellows. Both totally alone, both totally needy each becomes the protector of the other, (Voight with his physical prowess, Hoffman with his street-wise savvy). They are misfits adrift from the mainstream, tolerant of their own peculiarities and the deviances of others. Though 'straight' Voight isn't beyond a homosexual encounter in a 42nd street cinema with a boy even lonelier than himself. (The whole film posits a strangely 'Christian' attitude).<br /><br />It's also magnificently acted. While Voight and Hoffman hold the screen throughout there are superb vignettes from the likes of Brenda Vaccaro and Sylvia Miles as well as John McGiver, Bob Balaban and Bernard Hughes as sundry customers and hangers-on, beautifully delineated little character studies that seem to transcend acting altogether while John Schlesinger's direction gives the film the feel of a documentary as well as an alien's totally detached eye-view of the American under-belly without rancor and without criticism. On second thoughts, maybe it is a great movie after all.