Reviews
The Limits of Control
December 11 2009
Jim Jarmusch
Starring Isaach De Bankolé, Bill Murray, Tilda Swinton
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Fortunately for Jim Jarmusch, Isaach De Bankolé has the sort of face that could fix an audience’s gaze for hours. Brooding, sharp yet unrefined, it is no coincidence that this is the Ivorian actor’s fourth collaboration with the prolific free-form filmmaker.
Here, much like Forest Whitaker’s Ghost Dog, De Bankolé plays a wandering recluse known only as Lone Man who, aside from a series of well cast if fleeting interludes, is left to carry the film solo. Amidst the daily grind he occupies a veiled space. He is a shadow: his duties undisclosed, his motives unexplained and ultimately insignificant.
Rather than surveying America through foreign eyes, Jarmusch takes his homespun brand of smart cinema to Spain, where he inverts the distinctive character/environment dynamic that has long personified his work. Within this foreign locale the director relishes spreading his wings, exploring and capturing the romantic rusticity of Seville and Almeria.
From cityscapes to rural pastures, our lone protagonist is left to his own devices, with passing exchanges bringing him ever nearer to his clandestine objective. Or not. Jarmusch’s troupe of shady go-betweens serve more as directorial mouthpieces than narrative architects. But for all that these interludes occasionally drag, few filmmakers can marshal the character ensemble with Jarmusch’s precision and wit.
Laced with the deadpan sleight of hand that is the director’s hallmark, those unfamiliar with Jarmusch’s brand of indie auterism may find The Limits of Control hard to stomach. This is a demanding film that will no doubt fuel the art-house naysayers, yet set against a vivid Spanish canvas Jarmusch’s poetic pretensions become not only explicable but palatable as well.
Anticipation:
Enjoyment:
In Retrospect:
I saw this film in Paris, English language with French subtitles (except for the Spanish language bits which of course also had French subtitles). This all added to the film's dislocation, causing me at times to forget the director's nationality. Seeing it with an attention-paying French audience made it seem like a new take on Sixties spy thrillers as directed by Jean-Luc Goddard with help from Antonioni. I loved its wicked, quiet wit and its film games playing. I thought it looked ravishing throughout and genuinely enjoyed the whole thing. It's only fair though to say that the two ladies who were with me thought it was less exciting than paint drying.
Written by Victor Hallett on December 18th, 2009 at 10:32