Who's In It: Isaach De Bankole, Alex Descas, Jean-Francois Stevenin, Luis Tosar, Paz de la Huerta, Tilda Swinton, Youki Kudoh, John Hurt, Gael García Bernal, Hiam Abbass, Bill Murray
The Basics: A mostly silent lone man walks through Spain on a mysterious, increasingly sinister-seeming mission--okay, not that mysterious if you watched the opening credits and noticed that everyone is listed in the order they appear in the film and that Bill Murray is last--that takes him through not only the countryside but through his own consciousness. He takes in everything and gives nothing but increasingly awesome suit-and-shirt color choices. And when he's done so is the movie.
What's The Deal: There's a hazy, droning quality to this movie that will annoy a lot of people. I, however, am not one of them. Director Jim Jarmusch can be trusted to set his movies in places you want to look at and fill them with people who fascinate and hold you even if they're only on screen for five minutes (that's everybody except De Bankole, the guy on the mission). Toss in weird humor, repetitive dialogue, impossible stuff happening (how does De Bankole fit so many cool outfits into that little travel bag?) a roots-like confusion of art, music, film and philosophical references, with beautiful visual indulgences from cinematographer Christopher Boyle, and the meaning of it all--if there is one, since the ending is sort of an abrupt shift from walking sleepiness to a quick, obvious flash of violence--is sort of beside the point.
But If You Really Need A Meaning: Wait till the Spanish bumper sticker flies by quickly in one scene. It reads "La vida no vale nada," or, "Life is worthless." Honestly, that kind of thing is refreshing to me. And it's essentially the same moral you're given in Ghosts of Girlfriends Past, but in this movie it's presented bluntly and with about 1000 percent more style.
Casting Coups: Youki Kudoh, who was the young girl in 1989's Mystery Train, the one who kept having the Elvis/Carl Perkins debate with her rockabilly boyfriend, is back in this movie on another train talking about how human beings are a mass of vibrating molecules. And the most bizarrely glamorous entrance award goes to Tilda Swinton, who slow-motion strides into frame wearing white pants, white gloves, white coat, white wig, white sunglasses and white cowboy hat, holding a white-handled umbrella. Then she sits down with De Bankole and talks about how she likes movies where people sit and say nothing. What kind of cruel world is it that this deserving art-creature was robbed of her rightful Fug Madness victory?
And It's About Time Someone Thought To Use: The cult metal bands Earth, Sunn 0))) and Boris to create a trancelike atmosphere of sonic unease. I was wrong when I assumed some cool horror filmmaker would catch on to them first.