Directed by: Jim Jarmusch.
Written by: Jim Jarmusch inspired by an idea from Bill Raden and Sara Driver.
Starring: Bill Murray (Don Johnston), Jeffrey Wright (Winston), Julie Delpy (Sherry), Alexis Dziena (Lolita), Sharon Stone (Laura), Frances Conroy (Dora), Christopher McDonald (Ron), Chloë Sevigny (Carmen's Assistant), Jessica Lange (Carmen), Tilda Swinton (Penny), Pell James (Sun Green), Mark Webber (The Kid).
When
writing about The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou recently as part of my series
on Wes Anderson, I noted that I thought Anderson misused Bill Murray in that
movie – that the movie required Murray to be too active, to drive too much of
the plot, when Murray’s gifts are primarily reacting to others around him, more
than driving the plot itself. A year after Anderson misused Murray (the only
time in their fruitful collaboration that Anderson has), Jarmusch used Bill
Murray perfectly in Broken Flowers. As Roger Ebert noted in his review of the
film – “No actor is better than Bill Murray at doing nothing at all, and being
fascinating while not doing it.” That perfectly describes Murray’s performance
in this film – which is one of his very best.
Murray
stars as Don Johnston, who latest younger girlfriend, Sherry (Julie Delphy) has
decided to leave him – telling him she doesn’t want to be with an “aging Don
Juan” anymore and complaining that she treats him like his mistress even though
he’s not even married. Don doesn’t put up much of a fight when she leaves –
he’s been through this before – he knows the drill. Then one day a letter
arrives in the mail – it’s unsigned and on pink stationary. In it, someone
claiming to be an old girlfriend tells Don that he has a son – now 19 – and
he’s decided to leave to look for his father – even though he knows nothing of
the man. She just thought he should be warned in case he does in fact track Don
down. Don tells his friend Winston (Jeffrey Wright) about the letter – and
Winston thinks he should track down this woman to determine if he does in fact
have a son. The problem is that Don thinks it could be one of five different
women. He gives the list to Winston, who makes the arrangements for Don to go
and visit the women one at a time – well, at least four of them, because the
fifth died in a car accident a few years before. Don, begrudgingly, decides to
take the trip.
So
Don sets out, driving from house to house (“I’m a stalker, in a Taurus”, he
complains to Winston over the phone) on a journey into his past, and gets four
vastly different reactions from the women he has left behind. The first, Laura
(Sharon Stone), holds no grudges – and is happy to see Don, invites him in, and
he even spends the night. The comic highlight of this segment is Laura’s
daughter, the appropriately named Lolita (Alexis Dziena), who is casually half
dressed the whole time unless she is completely naked, but has either perfected
her act of naiveté, or really doesn’t understand what she is doing. This is the happiest stop for Don – even
though he never manages a smile.
From
there, it’s onto Dora (Frances Conroy) – a woman who lives a picture perfect
life, in a picture perfect house in a picture perfect suburb with a picture
perfect husband, Ron (Christopher McDonald), serving picture perfect dinners
and is perfectly, utterly miserable. The woman Don once knew – who we catch a
glimpse of in an old photograph – is gone. Dora seems on the verge of tears the
whole time, and can barely make eye contact with Don, let alone speak. She is a
broken woman – although precisely what broke her is never stated, only hinted
at.
Then
there’s Carmen (Jessica Lange) – who wanted to be a lawyer when Don knew her
all those years before, and now has a lucrative career communicating with
animals – she cannot “read animals minds”, but she can communicate with them –
if they want to tell her something, she can hear it. She gained this power when
her dog – Winston – died many years ago. She’s friendly to Don – but quite
clearly wants nothing to do with him (“Do you want to get a drink later?”, I
don’t drink”, “Something to eat then?”, “I don’t … eat”). There’s a
passive-aggressive way she – and her assistant (Chloe Sevigny) deal with Don
that makes it clear he isn’t wanted.
That
passive-aggressive behavior is at least preferable to what Don gets when he
visits Penny (Tilda Swinton – in her first Jarmusch movie – she’s been in the
only two he’s made since). She doesn’t attempt to hide her contempt for him,
and he ends up getting beat up for his trouble – and never really gets an
answer from her.
In
many ways, Broken Flowers is the most mainstream, conventional film of
Jarmusch’s career. His penchant for long takes is still apparent – but not as
noticeable here, as he gives the film a more typical “Sundance” look than any
of his other films. The screenplay is also a touch more conventional –
certainly when compared to his two prior features (not including the short film
collection Coffee & Cigarettes) Dead Man and Ghost Dog. He fills the cast
with stars – although that’s not all that new to Jarmusch – he is working with
many of them for the first (and so far last) time. This was, as far as I know,
the only film Jarmusch has made directly for a branch of a studio instead of
finding independent financing – and it shows a little bit.
Yet
just because Broken Flowers is slightly more conventional that most of
Jarmusch’s work, that doesn’t mean it’s worse. The film is also the most
conventionally satisfying of Jarmusch’s career – yet still does leave the
ending daringly ambiguous. The movie provides a few different answers at the
end of the film, but no real resolution - and when you consider Dora’s line
earlier in the film “I didn’t think I could be a good mother to Ron’s
children”, which doesn’t exactly confirm that she doesn’t have any children,
just not Ron’s children, or if you consider that someone could have been
writing on behalf of the one woman who died, while posing as her, the film
implies even more possible solutions. But Don may never get the answer – look
at the sad, mournful way he looks at a young man driving by in a car in the
film’s haunting final shot. For him there is no closure – and perhaps he
doesn’t deserve any. Any man, who when faced with a possible child of 19, that
comes up with five different women who could be the mother, obviously has some
issues with women – something confirmed by the women’s reaction to Don when he
shows up. Some may have moved on with their lives, but they aren’t really
interested in Don anymore – or reliving old times – except for Laura, of
course.
What
Murray does in Broken Flowers is quietly brilliant. I have never seen Murray
look so sad before – or since – in a movie. He’s reached an age – he was in his
mid-50s then – when his life is set. He has become a success – has lots of
money that he made with computers, but he doesn’t like his career (he doesn’t
even own a computer). He sits and stares sadly at the TV. His one friend is
Winston – and he sees that Winston has chosen the opposite life of his – one
woman, many kids – and seems perfectly content. Whereas Don has lived the life
that we are told many men would love – hoping from one beautiful woman to the
next – and has been left empty – longing for something more it’s too late for
him to get.
All of this probably makes Broken Flowers seem more of a downer than it really is. The film is funny – but like with all of Jarmusch’s film, it’s a subtle humor – not really laugh out loud funny, but something a touch quieter and deeper. This is probably as mainstream of a film as Jarmusch is ever going to make – and it still stands out from the pack of the regular Sundance indies we see every year. It’s a deeper, darker film. And it’s one I find that grows in my mind each time I watch it.
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