|
|
Coffee and Cigarettes
(2003)
Dir: Jim Jarmusch
Los Angeles is a great place for celebrity sightings and an even better place for people watching. Furthermore, LA provides the ideal environment for the combination of these activities. Something magical occurs in the intersection of celebrity and peeping. I don’t know why it seems important to watch someone that’s famous. Rationally, I understand the arbitrary nature of fame, but I still enjoy seeing someone that’s been on television. It’s one of those inescapable traps for me, like having sex with vulnerable chicks. I’m joking… sort of. But I guess that’s why I still love seeing most any Hollywood movie, it’s an opportunity to look at a two story tall celebrity AND a theater is dark enough to put your hand up a weeping girl’s shirt.
Speaking of tall celebrities, the other day I was fortunate enough to see Jeff Goldblum seduce a woman half his age. I was a little early for the new Jarmusch movie, Coffee and Cigarettes, milling around outside the theater, when up fluttered the Fly. Not only does Goldblum look creepy (all gangly and wearing Euro eyeglasses), he was caressing this pretty young blonde’s hand while whispering sweet chaos theory into her ear. I didn’t think the movie would live up to this treat for the eyes, but luckily Jim Jarmusch understands the magic and joy of people watching as much as any filmmaker today. Watching Coffee and Cigarettes is essentially an hour and a half of gazing at some famous people. It’s several short vignettes comprised of two or more celebrities in a room with coffee and cigarettes for props. Like most Jarmusch films, oberservation of actors is key as the story is told mostly in gestures. It’s less about what the characters are verbally communicating to each other (and in fact these characters stumble through cup after cup of miscommunication) and more about how Joie Lee, Cinque Lee and Steve Buscemi physically act and react to each other. It’s about how Roberto Benigni can’t sit still and how his hand shakes while sipping his coffee. It’s about the suspicious way that Tom Waits keeps glancing at Iggy Pop. Jarmusch seems to understand that film is, first and foremost, a visual art and that sound (such as a heartwarming John Williams-esque musical score) can subvert and distort the purity of a photographic image. But enough theory, I just think it’s rad to watch Bill Murray sit next to RZA and GZA. Not to mention getting a lesson in the art of seduction from Jeff Goldblum, because not only are the movies about people watching, but opportunities for personal growth.
|
|
|
