Sunday, September 04, 2005
Broken Flowers (2005)
Director: Jim Jarmusch
See January for: ^Closer; ^The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou;
^Finding Neverland; ^The Aviator
See February for: ^Million Dollar Baby; ^Male and Female;
^Gentlemen Prefer Blondes; ^Love; ^Sunrise; ^Ray
See March for: ^Being Julia; ^Millions
See April for: ^Melinda and Melinda
See May for: ^ Look At Me ^Enron: The Smartest Guys In the Room ^Chinatown; ^ Born Into Brothels
See June for: ^Cote d’Azur ^5X2 ^Sabah ^Inlaws and Outlaws ^Peach Girl ^2046
See July for: ^Pick-up ^Batman Begins ^Mad Hot Ballroom ^Heights ^My Summer of Love
See August for: ^ Two Kinds of Women ^ Me You and Everyone We Know
A slight, funny, poignant, even heart-breaking story. Director Jim Jarmusch walks a tightrope between farce and serious existential drama making all the correct, carefully thought out steps along the way keeping the humor and tragic emotional depth in perfect balance.
After the the film’s initial set-up Bill Murray’s Don is off on a road trip to find the five women (4 living and 1 dead) who may have written the anonymous letter claiming their affair 20 years ago lead to a son. This son is now out on a road trip looking for Don. Don, now in his late 50s, has spent his life with woman after woman in a long series of meaningless affairs. In fact he can hardly bring himself to get off the coach when his current lover is on the way out the door. Having to deal with a potential son showing up at his door leaves Don paralyzed.
Jeffrey Wright, hilarious as Winston Don’s neighbor/amateur sleuth, has taken it upon himself to track down the addresses of these women. He has bought the plane tickets, rented the cars and hotels rooms and given Don his itinerary for the search. Winston instructs Don to look for ridiculously obvious clues: like a picture of a 19-year-old son, or pink paper in a typewriter (since the letter he received was type written on pink paper.)
The rest of the film (aside from the final 10 minutes) follows Don’s hilarious trip from old flame to old flame. None of the women are happy to see him (aside from Laura, played by Sharon Stone, and her daughter Lolita, a farcical parody of Nabokov’s Lolita. They would be happy to see (and bed) any man). In fact Jarmusch has each new woman display a bit more hostility toward Don building to his being punched out by the last woman’s scary redneck boyfriend. It is obvious from their reactions that Don treated these women shabbily at best 20 years ago when they were lovers.
As entertaining as these visits are the real story is going on silently, almost imperceptively, inside Don. Jarmush is slowly building up an existential awakening inside the emotionally dead Don. Like Meursault in Camus' The Stranger, he will come to realize what meaning life could have had after it is too late to change his fate. Don seems pulled almost against his will to keep traveling from woman to woman. And it is significant that he continues traveling alone and under his own volition on these awful plane flights, sleeping in cheap hotels and driving hours on country roads. He continues to tell Winston he is not going on, but he goes on. Despite his best efforts to remain emotionally closed, to beat down any sense that something significant has happened, the idea of a son torments him.
Don returns from his trip with no certainty about the truth of the letter: Did one of those old girlfriends write it? Is it true? Is it a cruel prank from a more recent lover?
Whatever the explanation Don is now emotionally raw wondering: do I have a son? Having had a hollow inner life for so long the experience of feeling and reflecting is overwhelming, even paralyzing, for Don.
In the final scene Don sees the same young man he saw the night before at the airport (he thinks) looking in at him as he has lunch at a restaurant. Jarmusch does a fantastic job putting us in Don’s head each time he sees a young man, we wonder with Don – is that the son? Don walks outside and offers to buy the kid a sandwich. They talk and Don asks about the kid’s father. This is obviously a sore subject for the kid (because Don is his father?) and he begins to leave. Don, now needing to know, blurts out: “I know you think I’m your Dad”. The kid freaks out and runs off (because it is true? because Don seems crazy making such a statement?). Mustering more energy in this moment than the rest of the film combined, Don runs after his possible son, only stopping when he is sure he cannot catch him. At that moment a car drives by in a slow motion shot. Leaning out the passenger window is a different young man looking closely at Don, studying him. Don (and we) wonder: is that the son? The film concludes with a dizzying 360 degree camera spin around Don’s head, and we realize this is Don's fate: to be uncertain for the rest of his life wondering: do I have a son?
Beyond this nagging uncertainty Don will also have to live with the feeling his life has been meaningless. The significance of possibly having a son has made Don realize how insignificant his life has been having spent the past 20 – 30 years in a series of shallow affairs with women, none of whom care for him and many of whom despise him. There is no love in his life and nothing in himself.
Perhaps most accomplished in Broken Flowers is the depth of character Jarmusch via Murray has created with perhaps the most minimalist performance I have seen. Murray plays Don with barely a movement, hardly a change of facial expression and only the slightest bit of meaningful dialogue. Yet by the final scene Murray has expressed fully to us the weight and pain his character experiences after realizing his life could have had meaning but has, in fact, been meaningless. As in Lost In Translation, Murray has succeeded in establishing depth, sympathy and significance of character while leaving enough blank slate for his audience to imagine missing pieces and to project personal experience. And perhaps best of all, Murray remains vastly entertaining and undoubtedly hilarious all the while. Murray has transformed himself from deadpan comedian to an outstanding subtle actor in his 30 years on screen, and at this point in his career I cannot get enough of him.
Should you see it? Broken Flowers is nearly as wonderful as Lost In Translation.
See January for: ^Closer; ^The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou;
^Finding Neverland; ^The Aviator
See February for: ^Million Dollar Baby; ^Male and Female;
^Gentlemen Prefer Blondes; ^Love; ^Sunrise; ^Ray
See March for: ^Being Julia; ^Millions
See April for: ^Melinda and Melinda
See May for: ^ Look At Me ^Enron: The Smartest Guys In the Room ^Chinatown; ^ Born Into Brothels
See June for: ^Cote d’Azur ^5X2 ^Sabah ^Inlaws and Outlaws ^Peach Girl ^2046
See July for: ^Pick-up ^Batman Begins ^Mad Hot Ballroom ^Heights ^My Summer of Love
See August for: ^ Two Kinds of Women ^ Me You and Everyone We Know
A slight, funny, poignant, even heart-breaking story. Director Jim Jarmusch walks a tightrope between farce and serious existential drama making all the correct, carefully thought out steps along the way keeping the humor and tragic emotional depth in perfect balance.
After the the film’s initial set-up Bill Murray’s Don is off on a road trip to find the five women (4 living and 1 dead) who may have written the anonymous letter claiming their affair 20 years ago lead to a son. This son is now out on a road trip looking for Don. Don, now in his late 50s, has spent his life with woman after woman in a long series of meaningless affairs. In fact he can hardly bring himself to get off the coach when his current lover is on the way out the door. Having to deal with a potential son showing up at his door leaves Don paralyzed.
Jeffrey Wright, hilarious as Winston Don’s neighbor/amateur sleuth, has taken it upon himself to track down the addresses of these women. He has bought the plane tickets, rented the cars and hotels rooms and given Don his itinerary for the search. Winston instructs Don to look for ridiculously obvious clues: like a picture of a 19-year-old son, or pink paper in a typewriter (since the letter he received was type written on pink paper.)
The rest of the film (aside from the final 10 minutes) follows Don’s hilarious trip from old flame to old flame. None of the women are happy to see him (aside from Laura, played by Sharon Stone, and her daughter Lolita, a farcical parody of Nabokov’s Lolita. They would be happy to see (and bed) any man). In fact Jarmusch has each new woman display a bit more hostility toward Don building to his being punched out by the last woman’s scary redneck boyfriend. It is obvious from their reactions that Don treated these women shabbily at best 20 years ago when they were lovers.
As entertaining as these visits are the real story is going on silently, almost imperceptively, inside Don. Jarmush is slowly building up an existential awakening inside the emotionally dead Don. Like Meursault in Camus' The Stranger, he will come to realize what meaning life could have had after it is too late to change his fate. Don seems pulled almost against his will to keep traveling from woman to woman. And it is significant that he continues traveling alone and under his own volition on these awful plane flights, sleeping in cheap hotels and driving hours on country roads. He continues to tell Winston he is not going on, but he goes on. Despite his best efforts to remain emotionally closed, to beat down any sense that something significant has happened, the idea of a son torments him.
Don returns from his trip with no certainty about the truth of the letter: Did one of those old girlfriends write it? Is it true? Is it a cruel prank from a more recent lover?
Whatever the explanation Don is now emotionally raw wondering: do I have a son? Having had a hollow inner life for so long the experience of feeling and reflecting is overwhelming, even paralyzing, for Don.
In the final scene Don sees the same young man he saw the night before at the airport (he thinks) looking in at him as he has lunch at a restaurant. Jarmusch does a fantastic job putting us in Don’s head each time he sees a young man, we wonder with Don – is that the son? Don walks outside and offers to buy the kid a sandwich. They talk and Don asks about the kid’s father. This is obviously a sore subject for the kid (because Don is his father?) and he begins to leave. Don, now needing to know, blurts out: “I know you think I’m your Dad”. The kid freaks out and runs off (because it is true? because Don seems crazy making such a statement?). Mustering more energy in this moment than the rest of the film combined, Don runs after his possible son, only stopping when he is sure he cannot catch him. At that moment a car drives by in a slow motion shot. Leaning out the passenger window is a different young man looking closely at Don, studying him. Don (and we) wonder: is that the son? The film concludes with a dizzying 360 degree camera spin around Don’s head, and we realize this is Don's fate: to be uncertain for the rest of his life wondering: do I have a son?
Beyond this nagging uncertainty Don will also have to live with the feeling his life has been meaningless. The significance of possibly having a son has made Don realize how insignificant his life has been having spent the past 20 – 30 years in a series of shallow affairs with women, none of whom care for him and many of whom despise him. There is no love in his life and nothing in himself.
Perhaps most accomplished in Broken Flowers is the depth of character Jarmusch via Murray has created with perhaps the most minimalist performance I have seen. Murray plays Don with barely a movement, hardly a change of facial expression and only the slightest bit of meaningful dialogue. Yet by the final scene Murray has expressed fully to us the weight and pain his character experiences after realizing his life could have had meaning but has, in fact, been meaningless. As in Lost In Translation, Murray has succeeded in establishing depth, sympathy and significance of character while leaving enough blank slate for his audience to imagine missing pieces and to project personal experience. And perhaps best of all, Murray remains vastly entertaining and undoubtedly hilarious all the while. Murray has transformed himself from deadpan comedian to an outstanding subtle actor in his 30 years on screen, and at this point in his career I cannot get enough of him.
Should you see it? Broken Flowers is nearly as wonderful as Lost In Translation.
