Jim Jarmusch has developed a bit of a reputation for himself as a curator. Musician cameos, film-nerd name drops, and carefully-selected soundtracks have come to represent the filmmaker more than his actual, usually quite remarkable, filmmaking. With previous effort The Limits of Control, he seemingly lost himself in his tropes. With Only Lovers Left Alive, he has found himself again.
That isn’t to say that this work is any less a part of this director’s work. Rather, he has added just enough narrative propulsion to allow his film to act as a badass tale of identity reclamation, in addition to the “addict hangout” movie that it also functions as. Like he has many times previously, Jarmusch is once again working within genre. This time, we are witnessing Tilda Swinton and Tom Hiddleston as vampires in Tangiers and Detroit. Overstuffed sets and languorous slow-motion sequences place viewers in the world of classical and contemporary media, which these ultra-hip vamps live within. Isolated from the rest of humanity (described as “Zombies” by Hiddleston), the titular lovers instead are sustained by Charlie Feathers records, Beckett plays, and briefcases that are filled with (steadily decreasing amounts of) blood purchased from shady doctors.
Although Jarmusch has been criticized in the past for being overindulgent and slow, due to the somewhat low-key manner in which his films are structured, here the genre framework allows for a somewhat more wry, humorous tone. It seems like these characters have existed at this station for a long, long time, and a preference for art and irony has come to dominate their world. This also serves to allow the climax of the film (which, of course, I will not spoil here) to feel oddly invigorating. Filling out the cast we have Mia Wasikowska, John Hurt, and Anton Yelchin. Jarmusch frequently gets fantastic performances out of his bit players (Dead Man, in fact, is built on this strength), and Only Lovers… is no exception. With The Limits of Control, I began to fear that after over 30 years of filmmaking Jim Jarmusch had lost his touch. Having watched Only Lovers Left Alive I now see that not only is this not the case, he is better than ever.
