Emilio Estevez perfectly captures Otto’s blank-eyed stare and self-centeredness, though perhaps that has more to do with casting than anything else. Otto is pure Southern California suburban vapidity. Otto is so passive that even being a rebel without a cause would tax his inertia. But he is not unlikable. Perhaps what keeps us from losing interest in Otto is his perseverance and stamina to keep things moving. He doesn’t hold any convictions, yet he doesn’t just want to lie down in the middle of the road awaiting the next oncoming car, either. Otto wants to be driving the car. In many ways, Otto is a lot like Peter Fonda in Easy Rider -- passive, yet fueled with the urge to see what happens next.

Bud, on the other hand, is anything but passive. Harry Dean Stanton plays him like a grizzled, cynical, meth-fueled philosopher of the streets, though one with great deadpan timing. Though his role in Wim Wenders’ Paris, Texas may contain weightier dramatic moments and substance, Harry Dean Stanton has rarely been better.

Repo Man feels as if it’s about to come undone at any moment. Luckily, though, Cox keeps things from nose-diving into pure apocalypse (unlike Spielberg’s 1941 or Terry Gilliam’s wonderful, yet directionless The Adventures of Baron Munchausen). In many ways, Repo Man has a lot in common with another cult film from 1984, The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai: Across the Eighth Dimension. Both films are surreal and slightly cartoonish, and both films feel as if they’re about to implode at any moment, which for their ardent fans is part of the fun.

Cox’s film has a controlled chaos to it. You may not always be sure where you’re going, but you trust that Cox does know, even though there are some plot threads that don’t go anywhere (i.e. the Rodriguez Brothers’ revolution). During the audio commentary on Anchor Bay Entertainment's DVD release of Repo Man, Cox does admit that he had to drop that thread. Apparently, the film was going to end down in Central America with Otto joining forces with the Sandinistas.

Much of Repo Man’s success stems from its great ensemble cast and its script. From the smooth sociopathic stylings of Lite (Sy Richardson) to Miller’s (Tracy Walter) spacey Fortean monologues to Bud’s priceless wisdom concerning the Repo Code, no one is given short shrift with their roles. Robby Muller’s cinematography –- capturing the heat and proletarian rhythms of Los Angeles -- is as beautifully shot as anything he did later on for William Friedkin’s sun-drenched crime film To Live and Die in L.A.. And Repo Man also contains one of the best song oriented soundtracks of that era, featuring Southern California punk bands such as Suicidal Tendencies, Black Flag, Fear, and The Circle Jerks.

Life on the fringes of the American Dream may not always be sweet, but in the words of repo man Bud, ". . . an ordinary person spends his life avoiding tense situations. Repo Man spends his life getting into tense situations."