Whether it’s Mystery Train , Dead Man, Ghost Dog , The Limits of Control or Only Lovers Left Alive , they’re movies populated by self-contained, romantic (but rarely carnal) loners who inhabit strangely deserted and melancholy landscapes.
In his best work (“Stranger Than Paradise,” “Mystery Train,” the recent “Only Lovers Left Alive”), that undead Jarmusch pace was organic.
But unlike the strictly retro-cool vibe that some of Jarmusch’s earlier work has trafficked in (Mystery Train), this time out he’s nodding to a notion of 20th-century working-class pride, whether it’s the metal lunch pail that Paterson carries with him, or the faded brick factory walls he passes on his daily walk, or the near-utter lack of modern media.
And, towards the end of the film, a familiar face from Mystery Train appears to impart some words of wisdom to our bereft protagonist.
It’s also infused with the wry absurdity, deceptively modest aesthetics and rich cultural references that have marked Jarmusch’s work since he emerged as an early prince of indie film with “Stranger Than Paradise,” “Down by Law” and “Mystery Train” in the 1980s.
When he moved into colour with Mystery Train and Night on Earth, he brought something of William Eggleston ’s unnerving vision to the screen.