Dealing in Dallas


By Aaron Hicklin

Jared Leto on playing a drug-smuggling, transgender, HIV-positive crusader

Photography by Caitlin Cronenberg

You wait decades for a movie that properly tells the story of how AIDS ravaged America — and then three come along at once. It’s director Jean-Marc Vallée’s good fortune that his new film, Dallas Buyers Club, gets there first. We have to wait until early spring to see Chris Mason Johnson’s award-winning Test, set in San Francisco in 1985, and Ryan Murphy’s all-star adaptation of Larry Kramer’s Tony-winning play The Normal Heart. All three projects take audiences back in time to the worst years of the epidemic, but Dallas Buyers Club, which endured an epic and complicated journey from page to screen, may be the most startling of all, with a homophobic redneck as its unconventional hero.

In a mesmerizing performance as the real-life Ron Woodroof, Matthew McConaughey stars as a womanizing junkie who becomes radicalized by an AIDS diagnosis in 1986. Told he has 30 days to live, Woodroof refuses to go quietly into the night, quickly establishing a black market in experimental drugs shipped across the border from Mexico. Jared Leto plays his unlikely sidekick, Rayon, a transgender addict and AIDS patient who partners with Woodroof to provide the drugs to a clamoring base of desperate customers. As with Oskar Schindler, the German industrialist who became an unlikely savior of Jews in Nazi-occupied Europe, the motivation is not entirely pure — there are profits to be made — but the consequences are profound. Woodroof himself lived another six years, and the film suggests that many others survived at least as long, if not longer, as a result of his drug-running exploits.

If Dallas Buyers Club is a little vague on exactly what Woodroof was importing, its David vs. Goliath subtext — like last year’s Oscar-nominated documentary How to Survive a Plague — is a master class in self-empowerment and community-building. Woodroof’s relationship with Rayon is by turns cynical, antagonistic, and, finally, tender and devoted. That the movie avoids sentimentality is a plus.