Ghost Dog It Ain't; But Still Quietly Fun

Some recent criticism of Jim Jarmusch's latest flick, Coffee and Cigarettes, seems to take the "unreached potential" slant, a view with which I have a little trouble aligning myself.

For example, in an overall favorable IMDb review of the Benigni/Wright skit that opens the film, Filmjack 3 writes, "The letdown is that the laughs aren't as great as they could've been."

Additionally, a fine friend and fellow blogger discusses the "irritatingly trite and banal" dialogue in which the actors engage throughout a great number of the skits, and also slanders the amusing and endearing Waits/Pop skit as "wasteful."

My perspective on why the movie appears to some not to have always met its "potential," especially with respect to the verbal exchanges and level of celebrity witticism:

1) The actors/musicians/famous peeps in this film are supremely talented folk. We expect them to be brilliant, especially in a film that echoes certain French New Wave films from a certain era of which we're all aware that emphasized deep conversation and astute insights into humanity...oh the profundity! [An obvious comparison I'm somewhat ashamed to make here...]

2) BUT: that is precisely not what Jarmusch set out to do! As described in the official synopsis of the film on its website [note: by way of using the word 'official,' I do not mean to imply any superior authority of perspective], "Jarmusch delves into the normal pace of our world from an extraordinary angle..."
Exactly - he wanted to capture the normal awkwardness and ineptitude that many of us face in day-to-day social situations, including coffeeshop interactions. Celebs are not to be exempted from these social difficulties, even when meeting people with whom they ostensibly have much in common (thinking the Waits/Pop vignette here...)

3) The film's efficacy lies in the very fact that the viewer is not allowed to be mesmerized by witty repartee (though, as Cheek notes, the visuals are quite mesmerizing...), but instead is forced to confront the fact, which I find rather endearingly human, that everyone is subject to periods of social awkwardness, though some experience far more of these situations than others. [On a side note: I actually did find the verbal exchanges, even those seemingly reeking of banality, amusing..."Are you saying I'm a Taco Bell kind of guy?"]

4) If you accept my interpretation of Jarmusch's choice of dialogue, or anti-dialogue, if you will, for his comic skits, then the combination of the words, music, and visuals of the film make it starkly original, smart, and beautiful. Which, in my book, meets any possible potential a creator of a film may want to meet.

Though not as subtle and entertaining as Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai, C&C was a fine way to spend a Saturday afternoon in good company, and I probably will see it again.

P.S. Do check out the official movie website for some clips from the movie, as well as the cool, though rather unnecessary, opportunity to customize a cup of coffee for your very own virtual coffee break...