There can never be too much Jim Jarmusch.
Jim’s latest gem, FATHER MOTHER SISTER BROTHER begins with a thrilling rendition of Spooky by Anika, “Would I like to go with you and see a movie? First I say no, I’ve got some plans for tonight And then I stop And say, “Alright” Love is kinda crazy with a spooky little boy like you.”
Would you like to go and see a movie? Hell yeah, if it’s FATHER MOTHER SISTER BROTHER, a carefully constructed feature film in the form of a triptych. It’s three stories high and the view is to die for. The three stories all concern the relationships between adult children, their somewhat distant parent (or deceased parents), and each other. Each of the three chapters takes place in the present, and each in a different country.
FATHER is set in the Northeast US, MOTHER in Dublin, Ireland, and SISTER BROTHER in Paris, France. The film is a series of character studies, quiet and observational, a sublime comedy interwoven with threads of melancholy.
Jarmusch, as usual, has assembled a brilliant cast, many of whom he has worked with before. I daresay that actors want to work with him because of his unique take on the world and of cinema.
The first chapter of this trio of intertwined tales features Tom Waits as dad, Adam Driver as his son and Mayim Bialik as his daughter. The siblings have come to visit dad, see how he’s doing, make sure he’s fine, sincerely fulfilling their filial duties. The kids are role playing but it’s genuine. Dad is role playing too, but disingenuous. Inter-generational intrigue imbues every space in this narrative, in a tone akin to Raymond Carver country.
Chapter two introduces Charlotte Rampling as Mother, awaiting the arrival of her daughters, played by Cate Blanchett and Vicky Krieps. Mother is hosting a rather formal tea, with cut sandwiches and dainty dishes set out in precise placement, a pattern of fine china and cutlery de rigueur. Blanchett’s character is a mummy pleasing progeny diametrically opposite to Krieps’ maverick maternal disappointment. The assignation simmers with contained antagonism.
The third piece of this perfect picture sees Indya Moore and Luka Sabbat as recently orphaned non identical twins packing up their parents’ Paris apartment. It is a beautiful essay on sibling synchronicity.
Each of these stories are tributaries flowing from an irrigation system that waters the imagination, a replenishing experience full of wit and playfulness.
