Monday, May 16, 2016

“Paterson,” Jim Jarmusch or overwhelming exaltation daily through poetry – Télérama.fr

Candidate for the Golden Palm, the director offers a feature film more poetic. . From a simplicity and a remarkable power

The title of the new film by Jim Jarmusch, Paterson , requires some clarification: c ‘ first is the surname of the main character, played by Adam Driver is then the name of the city from New Jersey, about thirty kilometers west of New York, where it was born and exercises function (very useful to the community) bus driver. Finally, Paterson is the title of the most famous collection of American poet William Carlos Williams (1883-1963), “great work” published several years after the war hymn to the city where he as he was born and lived.

Paterson (film), Paterson (the character) love Paterson (the book). For our official local RATP also writes poetry, a book that does not leave: short texts, a strange poetic prose, the more poetic it is prosaic, practical, amazingly simple. Among the subjects of his poems, his love for Laura, his girlfriend, who loves her as much in return. A couple of fable, the incredibly smooth and ritualized life

Just life going

Every morning, Paterson wakes up to the same ultra-early hour, before easily awakening; all day while carrying the “patersoniens” listening behind the wheel, a particular conversation that makes him smile and perhaps inspire, Laura (played with charm and humor by Golshifteh Farahani) redecorating their home with a taste so obsessive for black and white you’d think the output of a Tim Burton film. Or new fad, she invents a hypothetical future of country singer with the guitar it was bought by mail …

With them, there is Marvin, the bulldog moans or groans, and every evening during the evening walk, Paterson attaches like a cowboy would tie his horse in front of the bar where he has his habits … neither great sorrows or great joys – except that of go see the movie the Island of Dr. Moreau (1932) with Charles Laughton: “it’s so beautiful black and white, you’d live in the twentieth century” , then exclaims Laura. No spectacular adventures. Nothing that life going. Finally, an idea of ​​life …

Film-haiku

Magic generous, Jim Jarmusch makes this humble infinitely more attractive daily lives than others their own, that would be hectic and eventful. Without ever losing a nice comical, the film glorifies domestic harmony, comforting security rituals. It sums the micro-happiness qu’apportent erected habits, love, friendship, work, community life. And writing. This oasis of modest happiness squeezes the heart, in full empathy with the deep voice of the hero (Adam Driver ends up having false air of Nanni Moretti), the merry dinguerie heroin, mimicry Marvin. It moves because it appears a measure in all things, we know unattainable …

What could be gentillet or naive proves here gorgeous, evoking the grace of the film of the first (or second) age – the Crowd , King Vidor, homo americanus urbanus portrait vintage 1928, when William Carlos Williams attended the new York avant-garde circles. Or the simplicity of John Ford films depicting life in a small American town. Let’s be honest: in this self-portrait barely masked the filmmaker, there will still be an episode. A micro-accident which can not tell either the nature or the cause and who takes cataclysm tunes, as dramatic as the destruction of the temples of Palmyra. Except that the paper temples are easy to rebuild …

It should have read Paterson , the book, to measure how Paterson , the movie , is a free adaptation or a scholar palimpsest. For Jim Jarmusch clearly composed a poem, a film-haiku, simplicity and a remarkable power, declared candidate for the Golden Palm. Few movies out of which they wish to run illico poetry radius of the nearest bookstore, return arms full of books, having taken the firm decision to read a page a day, rain or that it sale, for example on the bus that we do not drive. Here, the compositions of the American Ron Padgett, for example, who lent his free verse to the film. Getting yourself to write poems? It will be for our next life …

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