The first half is reminiscent of Rust's line in True Detective: "Human consciousness is a tragic mistake in evolution... We are enslaved by the illusion of self, through a combination of sensory experiences and feelings that allow us to believe in ourselves is special, and in fact, we are none of us.” Jarmusch’s images always skip over the bridge and the story, and use the overflowing nothingness to search for answers that are only personal. Celebrities on the walls of bars, twins after another, people of all shapes and sizes in everyday footage, the whole world is full of different selves, but what sounded different turned out to be just the same things, the ones that saved our ordinary lives Yes, like Patterson's fantasies and expectations that he relied on lies to make it unnecessary, like the embarrassment of a broken heart but a sigh of relief. I saw myself ashamed to admit it. Or would you rather be a fish? PS When the lights were turned on at the end of the credits, there was a boy two places in the same row covering his face with a tissue and crying. I really envy such artistic sensibility...
View more about Paterson reviews
