Written by: Kevin Berge
Kylo Ren should meet Paterson. He might help him come to terms with his anger... or he'd just cut him in half. Okay, maybe not. (Image Courtesy of: imdb.com)
Quick Take: Paterson has little plot or character development, functioning more as a poetic snapshot of life. However, none of that hurts this delightful, quiet film with a strong lead performance from Adam Driver and detailed filmmaking that is beautifully shot.
***This is a review of Paterson which was released late in 2016. Thus, it will contain no spoilers though will discuss ideas within the film. Since this is more of an idea film than a plot film, prospective viewers may want to go into the film without another person's notions of the film's meaning. Read ahead at your own risk.***
Art is subjective as much in its construction as in its reception. A creator has the freedom to choose the way the use their art to convey a message. In film, this constitutes the management of camerawork along certain narrative lines. While most movies are simply plot and characters, they do not have to be.
If the typical movie script is that of a narrative book, the script of Paterson is that of a long poem. Not quite epic but certainly not anything short form. This is not a film with a strict beginning, middle, and end even if it has a start time and an end time with opening and closing credits.
Paterson follows one week in the life of a Paterson, New Jersey bus driver named Paterson (Adam Driver) who fancies himself a poet. He lives on a weekday routine of driving his bus through the day during which he takes a lunch break to write then goes home to have dinner with his wife Laura (Golshifteh Farahani) before going out on a walk with his bulldog Marvin.
Even within that routine, the film frames more routine. Paterson listens to a single conversation on the bus, writes a few lines of poetry before he begins riding and during his break, sits through a single largely one-sided conversation with his wife focused on her latest obsession, then drinks a single beer at the bar while watching one interaction unfold.
Each day of the film is a stanza, a group of scenes carrying some meaning, and each stanza contains familiar structure. At times, it rhymes. Other times, it repeats. The dialogue often uses repetition for the sake of humor. Those paying attention will likely find the greatest laughs in those moments.
Paterson showcases its sense of rigid structure in many forms. Much of the writing is concerned with pairs. From the running (and almost disturbing) use of twins to Laura's obsession with black and white to the main character living in a city of his same name, everything must have its pair whether it stands in parallel or contrast.
Art is subjective as much in its construction as in its reception. A creator has the freedom to choose the way the use their art to convey a message. In film, this constitutes the management of camerawork along certain narrative lines. While most movies are simply plot and characters, they do not have to be.
If the typical movie script is that of a narrative book, the script of Paterson is that of a long poem. Not quite epic but certainly not anything short form. This is not a film with a strict beginning, middle, and end even if it has a start time and an end time with opening and closing credits.
Paterson follows one week in the life of a Paterson, New Jersey bus driver named Paterson (Adam Driver) who fancies himself a poet. He lives on a weekday routine of driving his bus through the day during which he takes a lunch break to write then goes home to have dinner with his wife Laura (Golshifteh Farahani) before going out on a walk with his bulldog Marvin.
Even within that routine, the film frames more routine. Paterson listens to a single conversation on the bus, writes a few lines of poetry before he begins riding and during his break, sits through a single largely one-sided conversation with his wife focused on her latest obsession, then drinks a single beer at the bar while watching one interaction unfold.
Each day of the film is a stanza, a group of scenes carrying some meaning, and each stanza contains familiar structure. At times, it rhymes. Other times, it repeats. The dialogue often uses repetition for the sake of humor. Those paying attention will likely find the greatest laughs in those moments.
Paterson showcases its sense of rigid structure in many forms. Much of the writing is concerned with pairs. From the running (and almost disturbing) use of twins to Laura's obsession with black and white to the main character living in a city of his same name, everything must have its pair whether it stands in parallel or contrast.
And the true message for eternal happiness in this film is: find a beautiful, sincere, and imaginative wife. Easy. (Image Courtesy of: vox.com)
A prospective movie goer should understand that this is not a plot-driven film. It is even less eventful than most independent films today. Paterson is a breezy look at life, a buoyant structured fantasy with enough humor to constitute it as a comedy though it puts just as much into its dramatic and romantic sides.
It leaves enough clues of deeper meaning in rich and beautiful cinematography by Frederick Elmes (Blue Velvet) to capture the minds of those willing to think, but it also does not force the reader to do anything. It is effortless enough that one can simply sit back and enjoy a stress-free ride.
Adam Driver (The Force Awakens) has become a popular figure in films at the moment, but this is easily his best work to date. He has fully committed to this performance so effortlessly that you can forget he is an actor playing a role. He is immensely likable with a clear kindness that forces him into an all-too-familiar role of bottling up his own emotions.
At its core, this is director and writer Jim Jarmusch's vision in a way that echoes many of his other works. It does not do much or try to say more than it needs to, leaving the reader with just enough to chew on. It is effortlessly rewatchable when in the right mood with many hidden details to be explored.
This is an exuberant film in its celebration of poetry. As a main character, Paterson has just enough skill to write nice-sounding lines but not enough to make it all fit together. The point here is not how good or bad the poetry is though but its foundation.
Paterson uses poetry as his own escape. He is not looking to write it for anyone else as he keeps it locked away in his notebook even as his wife begs him to present it outward. He revels in the feeling of writing, the belonging of writing that comes from his work, connecting him to his frequently named idol William Carlos Williams.
Perhaps what Paterson represents most beautifully though is simple life. Despite its rigidity that follows the main character throughout the week, there is no sense that anything of the structure pains Paterson. In fact, he lives and breathes through it, finding simple enjoyment in his beautiful wife and humble home and simple poetry.
It leaves enough clues of deeper meaning in rich and beautiful cinematography by Frederick Elmes (Blue Velvet) to capture the minds of those willing to think, but it also does not force the reader to do anything. It is effortless enough that one can simply sit back and enjoy a stress-free ride.
Adam Driver (The Force Awakens) has become a popular figure in films at the moment, but this is easily his best work to date. He has fully committed to this performance so effortlessly that you can forget he is an actor playing a role. He is immensely likable with a clear kindness that forces him into an all-too-familiar role of bottling up his own emotions.
At its core, this is director and writer Jim Jarmusch's vision in a way that echoes many of his other works. It does not do much or try to say more than it needs to, leaving the reader with just enough to chew on. It is effortlessly rewatchable when in the right mood with many hidden details to be explored.
This is an exuberant film in its celebration of poetry. As a main character, Paterson has just enough skill to write nice-sounding lines but not enough to make it all fit together. The point here is not how good or bad the poetry is though but its foundation.
Paterson uses poetry as his own escape. He is not looking to write it for anyone else as he keeps it locked away in his notebook even as his wife begs him to present it outward. He revels in the feeling of writing, the belonging of writing that comes from his work, connecting him to his frequently named idol William Carlos Williams.
Perhaps what Paterson represents most beautifully though is simple life. Despite its rigidity that follows the main character throughout the week, there is no sense that anything of the structure pains Paterson. In fact, he lives and breathes through it, finding simple enjoyment in his beautiful wife and humble home and simple poetry.