To regain his footing, too, if not quite his momentum.
The other young characters get out of dead-end Dillon, in the cases of Garrity and Street, thanks entirely to Riggins.
(Equally telling, the word Kitsch uses second most often to describe Riggins is protector, also the word he uses second most often to describe himself.) In fact, the only person Riggins doesn't manage to save is Riggins.
And you just know he'll wind up one of those guys who kill their days on barstools, lost in memories and the past. It's like he's looked into the future and has seen that he's doomed, this special intuition making him a tragic figure.
Not that Riggins's presence is heavy or maudlin—he wears his saintly grace lightly, and with a grin—but he's a tragic figure nonetheless.
If isn't as bad as its reputation suggests, it isn't very good, either.
And even though its not-very-goodness has little to do with Kitsch, who performed ably in the title role, much of the blame fell on him. " was a really great experience," he tells me—which, of course, is another way of saying, "No regrets," Riggins's code and mantra, and, incidentally, Kitsch's sign-off on personal e-mails.
"I hope the restaurant's close because he's taking his bike," Taylor Kitsch's manager says to me. Only, suddenly, there he is, turning down the little alleyway.
—from Milk Studios, where Kitsch has just completed his ELLE photo shoot. I'm hypervigilant because the Hungry Cat is nestled up against a larger building, and I'm worried he'll pass it.
He just kept his head down and did what he always did: worked.