Broken Flowers

It seems as though no one cares one way or the other about my film posts, but movies make me happy, so I'm going to do it anyway.

My brother and I went to go see Broken Flowers last night. With this spike in gas prices it becomes increasingly expensive to see movies of this calibre, as we are about 40 miles outside of Salt Lake City. And do you really think that there's an indie aart-house theatre in the bastion of conservatism? Well, there used to be, and it wasn't really indie, but that's another story. (We also took a side trip to Night Flight comics on the way there so I could pick up an issue of Invincible #25 (it kicked all kinds of ass) and Jason caught up on some Batman. So, we tried to make the most of the trip.)

Jim Jarmusch, I think, has one of the most deliberate and clean styles of pacing the world of film has known. It's not flashy, it doesn't draw attention to itself and it serves the story. This movie is also genuinely funny, which helps get people who wouldn't normally like a movie like this.

I think the thing that impressed me the most was the things that went unsaid. Jim Jarmusch doesn't take his audience for idiots. He lets you put things together for yourself. You must draw your own conclusions. You have to make assumptions about characters based on their body language, where they glance, things they have in the room, how they deal with discomfort, etc. Almost no one expains themselves through their dialogue. It's refreshing as all hell. And there is so much in what these characters don't say.

I don't want to say too much about the ending, but I think it's perfect. Jason didn't feel that it resolved anything, but I think it resolved everything. (He liked it, we just argued about the degree of resolution the whole way home)

And there can't be enough said about Bill Murray's dramatic acting ability. You'd never have guessed it by watching Stripes or Ghostbusters that he would be the perfect straight man. Almost none of the comedy in this movie can be attributed to Bill Murray, he merely reacts. It's the most fascinating thing in the world to watch him play this man, Don Johnston, (no, not Don Johnson, and stop calling him Don Juan) who has crept into this repetitive cycle of chasing women and now he's over the hill. He's jolted back to life, begrudgingly, by an anonymous letter and the journey to discover it's secrets is utterly compelling.

It's exactly the kind of movie I like to see. Even if I have to make a goddamned field trip out of it. It's worth a 37 mile drive and $7.75 at the box-office, easy.