What a misunderstood movie this is! Jarmusch, in his 60s, wrote such a terrifyingly mundane subject, a bus driver who wrote poetry. But after reading it, apart from confessing to Jiamusu, there is no other affection in my heart.
That is him, even the paragraphs of the corpse in Wei Ai Eternal Life can be photographed elegantly, romantically and humorously. Adam Driver's abrupt face in Patterson, playing the violent and dark red sword warrior, playing the melodious folk singer, playing the silent preacher, playing the poetic bus driver, actually does not violate the harmony . Jia Mu Xuzhen just shot the still water and deep flow, which is very rare, gentle and meticulous.
Patterson, who lives in Patterson, is itself a joke on the text, with narratives interwoven with narratives, mirrors mirroring mirrors, twins for twins. Patterson, who walks to work with his lunch box every day, has the name of his city, his name, on the mottled wall behind him. On the tedious route, time becomes nothingness, the poet becomes king, and Patterson is Patterson's kingdom.
So the dream told by his lover in the morning can make him easily cross the imaginary hill, the bus is a silver behemoth, and the water drop is the hair draped over the girl's shoulder. The best thing is this kind of trance projection that is not entangled by the entanglement of world affairs, the king's do whatever he wants, the greatest freedom. This is a king who is in love, a king who is writing poetry.
Life is hopelessly monotonous, yet everyone tells it, mixed with oral myths, delusions, confusions and misunderstandings. The Indian colleagues at the bus stop can't wait for someone to ask, and they can dump their middle-aged trivialities; the boastful men on the bus unconsciously glorify their own experiences; the little boys have idle conversations; a For both male and female college students, fragments drawn from history are laced with personal sentimental perspectives; without these seemingly trivial accounts, we would not only lose our reference to the world, but also fall apart.
Talk, tell, silence, the trinity, but poetry is the most silent of them all. Patterson writes poems, but he just writes them densely line by line without leaving any gaps. It doesn't matter if his girlfriend persuades him to make them public. He doesn't cherish a book that he carries with him, but he doesn't cherish it. It's a love poem for the person in front of him. Wrong, the Persian beauty of Farahani is indeed like the muse that the poet loves very much. But in the end, it is the product of hiding under the waterfall, from the daily chores, and living in the underground workshop, facing the self and digesting the loneliness. On the other end of the mirror, there is always only a split image of the self, not the other. In silence and loneliness, in the deepest part of love or in the deepest part of art, everyone is destined to be extremely lonely.
But how tenderly Jiamusu acquiesced to this kind of loneliness, the sleeping face of the person beside the pillow is still cute, and the innovative dishes she cooks are so hard to swallow that she swallows them, which is embarrassing for the folk singer wishes are also granted. The usual that embraces everything, turns a stone into gold. So there is no great struggle and entanglement, and there is no such resentment that the world owes too much to the sensitive people. Probably the biggest rival is the poem terminator dog Marvin, who knocks down the mailbox once a day, as if for you The little glitches added to this ordinary life.
The most rare thing is this kind of positive affection that is not sarcasm, ridicule, or bitter. Everyone in the town is putting on a live play, Romeo and Juliet in the tavern, I'm an actor's declaration, Patterson can't help but turn his face away and snicker, romanticism seems to be out of date, a hero All he can do is take the air gun from the hands of others. David Bowie once sang, even if it's just one day, if I'm king, you'll be the next, even if we're just heroes for one day. Day after day, we who have become actors, poets, and opponents of ordinary life, and we who are performing the tragicomedy of love, are not heroes who deserve to be treated tenderly and meticulously?
Patterson, the bus driver who lost his secret notebook, was sitting under the waterfall in despair, but he was always just the same Patterson. The tourists from the east were more like the Zen master who mentioned him in Zen Buddhism. It seemed the most mindless moment. , is the moment of enlightenment.
Patterson, just a name written on the water.
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