One Man + Five Women = Broken Flowers

Broken Flowers Starring: Bill Murray, Jeffery Wright, Sharon Stone, Jessica Lange, Frances Conroy, Tilda Swinton Director: Jim Jarmusch Rating: !!! Where you can find it: Westgate Art Cinema Right at this one...no time to lose. Bill Murray. Jim Jarmusch. In that order. And why Bill Murray first? Because he's earned it. He wasn't even originally slated to be on SNL, but he hung on and got on....and we loved him. Caddyshack, Stripes, Ghostbusters, Groundhog Day, Ed Wood, Kingpin. Am I missing anything? Oh yeah, a resurrection as Wes Anderson's middle-aged depressive in Rushmore and Life Aquatic. Enter, Sophia Coppola. Enter, Jim Jarmusch. And that's why Bill Murray first. Because before the discovery of his talent, he was still Bill Murray. And after the discovery, he was still Bill Murray. Ask the fans of the St. Paul Saints, as well as the other minor league ball clubs he co-owns. Bill Murray is the true soul of the slacker nation; perhaps that being the reason his award shelf remains shockingly bare. No Oscar....yet. Enter, Jim Jarmusch (Night on Earth, Stranger than Paradise), with the signature effort, Broken Flowers. In his latest picture, Jarmusch pulls out all the usual stops that make him a favorite in the independent film scene: Multiculturalism, homages to classic filmmakers and animators, sprawling road shots with true cruisin’ music--this time from Ethiopian Jazzman Mulatu Astatke--and of course, coffee and cigarettes. Above all, Jarmusch presents us with a cast of characters having what looks to be an unbelievable amount of fun, even when the subject mellows to the slices of an orange carrot. The story revolves around Don Johnston (Murray), an aptly-named present-day Don Juan in the process of being dumped by his latest love (played by the Julie Delpy). Though his world should be falling in around him, Murray has developed the existential nobody character to perfection. Straight-faced following the bad news, Johnston receives an even more shocking discovery in the form of a pink letter announcing his fatherhood. With the help of his amateur gumshoe neighbor Winston (Jeffery Wright), and the omniscient internet, Murray begins on a quest of revisiting his past loves, a la High Fidelity. But unlike Nick Hornby's protagonist Rob Gordon, Johnston is thrust unwillingly and without any apparent personal hopes toward the bitter-sweet reunions. Yes, along the way he meets a wonderfully free-spirited Sharon Stone (and her sweet little lola ;), a tragically warped Francis Conroy, an entirely non-Jessica Rabbit in Jessica Lange, and the self-contained firebomb Tilda Swinton (who recently took a splendid turn as Gabriel in the Keaneau Reeves action-flick Contantine). Only through the contrasts in the women of his life are we able to see the true Johnston. We can, at the film’s end, see him for the decent and kindhearted, lonely and afraid lover of women that he must be. And this is the genius of Bill Murray. To play a character so totally dependent on his supporting cast to define him is a bold move for an actor. It means he must be confident enough in both the supporting cast, and in his own career, that he need not trump any other on-screen performance. The subtlety of Johnston’s role in this film is answered perfectly (yes, perfectly) by Murray. Oh yeah, and it won the Cannes Grand Prix. The only characteristically “Jarmusch” element that is conspicuously absent is the use of foreign languages--though with the inclusion of Winston and his adorable wife, sons and daughters, internationalism as a vehicle (for music and coffee) is still present. If you’re a fan of Bill Murray’s work in the past 10 years, and of Jim Jarmusch’s work in the last 20 years, you’re in for a great 2 hours. If not, then at least buy an Astatke album and sit back with a few friends and a game of Barbarossa…you won’t regret it.