It’s easy to forget the humble safari jacket. Dane DeHaan has not forgotten it. DeHaan uses his to stride boldly through the urban jungle, swinging on vines from bodega to nightclub, stopping only to inhale a cigarette. His pants come up way high; his boots are made for walking. In 1973, Jack Nicholson wakes up in a cold sweat and says to himself: “Man, that kid Dane DeHaan’s gonna know how to wear sunglasses.” It’s a jungle out there. Dane DeHaan doesn’t care.