Paterson (2016)

'Paterson (2016)' is a feature built entirely upon, and indeed celebrating, the mundane. It follows a seemingly regular week in the life of a bus-driving poet and doesn't stray too far from the confines of reality, whilst still managing to have a fair amount to say and packing a hefty level of symbolism into its relatively layered narrative. The character work is nice and deep, even though there are really only two major ones, and the film works within the smallest of margins to deliver its changes and growth but still certainly delivers both. It also feels palpably real and remains remarkably entertaining. It's a nice, subtly life-affirming feature that isn't ground breaking but is sort of beautiful in its own unique, low-key kind of way. 7/10

Fmovies: Greetings again from the darkness. Do you find poetry in everyday life? What about poets … do you envision loners whose lives are filled with angst and suffering? Our lead character here is a pretty normal guy who drives a city bus, has a happy marriage, and walks his dog each evening. He's also a poet – and a pretty interesting one.

Writer/director Jim Jarmusch (Broken Flowers, 2005) often seems like he is making films for his circle of friends Â… all whom must be much cooler than you and me. This time, however, he takes an opposite approach and brilliantly focuses on a dude that any of us could know. Paterson (Adam Driver) is a New Jersey Transit bus driver who writes poetry based on his observations of life's seemingly minor details (his first poem notes "We have plenty of matches in our house").

You should be forewarned: there are no murders, kidnappings, bank robberies or shootouts. Things move rather deliberately. Also missing are any special effects – heck, Adam Driver even got licensed to drive a bus for the role. Instead, we are forced to slow down and see each of the seven days of a week through the eyes and words of Paterson. He observes. He listens. He people watches. He then commits his thoughts to the page and recites them for our benefit. Sometimes he is eavesdropping on bus passengers, while other times he curiously tries to figure out the newest "dream" for his beloved wife Laura (Golshifteh Farahani). Having the soul of an artist, Laura cloaks her world in a geometric black and white color scheme while energetically bounding from cupcakes to country and western music to cooking as she pursues her place in life.

There are many Jarmusch touches throughout. Paterson the poet actually lives and works in Paterson, New Jersey … yep, Paterson from Paterson. The interactions at the neighborhood bar (run by Barry Shabaka Henley) are simultaneously real and surreal – right down to the wall of local fame (including Hurricane Carter and Lou Costello, but no mention of Larry Doby). Coincidences abound. A young girl recites her poem to Paterson … her writing style, personal book, and delivery make her seem like his poetic doppelganger – all while the recurring appearance of numerous sets of twins make us believe in the law of attraction. Lastly, the closest thing to a villain in the film is Paterson's bulldog Marvin, in what plays like a love-hate relationship with the mailbox being center-ring.

Another local Paterson (the city) aspect is Paterson's (the poet) admiration of the works of William Carlos Williams, a poet whose style he emulates. One of the terrific scenes near the end involves a spontaneous interaction between Paterson and town visitor (Masatoshi Nagase) that takes place next to The Great Falls, and serves as a reminder that we should accept who we are, no matter the challenges or lack of glory. This is truly director Jarmusch's ode to the artist/poet in each of us and in ordinary life. Creating art as best we can is a very personal thing, and for some it's a need - while for others it's one of life's simple pleasures. Regardless, a "normal" life with daily routines is not to be scorned, but rather embraced, should you be so fortunate. If you doubt this, Paterson asks, "Would you rather be a fish?" **NOTE: sharp moviegoer eyes will recognize Kara Hayward and Jared Gilman, who both had their debut in Wes Anderson's Moonrise Kingdom (2012).

I owe Jarmusch a debt of gratitude for being a formative figure in shaping my cinematic tastes. I shall never forget watching Stranger Than Paradise (1984) in NY in the early 1980s: the novelty, joy, patient camera movement, the fantastic way of playing Creedence Clearwater Revival's 'I Put a Spell on You' throughout the soundtrack. I have seen most of Jarmusch's movies ever since and more than three decades later, Paterson did not disappoint. Jarmusch is as creative as ever, gifting us with a wonderful film. The set is Paterson N.J., the protagonists are a bus driver also named Patterson and his artistically creative spouse. Paterson writes poetry, reads poetry, and encounters poetry wherever he goes and whoever he meets. This is it. And it is as engaging, uplifting, funny, and as insightful as a film can be. Patterson may be watched as a homage. It delicately portrays a particular place, Paterson New Jersey, reminding us that a place, any place, is always a product of the way its present mixes up with its past, of the way people both walk it and remember it. But the film is not only a homage to a place, it is also a homage to daily life, to the mundanity of just going to work and having a drink after a day's work. One striking feature of this film is that there are no bad characters here, no evil spirits, no mean intentions. In fact the only mean character in the film is the protagonists' dog, but even the dog is not too bad, just a drag. And miraculously, in spite of this, the film is totality innocent of naiveté. As if at the hands of a gifted anthropologist, the camera curiously follows and watches, and the film never falls into anything resembling judgment and condescension. It is truly genius in its ability to draw us into the perspective of the protagonists, to embrace their feelings and movements, to empathize with them and to fall in love with their numerous small encounters. Remarkably, one of the achievements here is that the film feels and looks timeless. It could be shot in the 1950s, or the 1970s, and yet it makes no attempt to hide the fact that it has been shot only recently. Incidentally, Paterson makes a point about not having a mobile phone. It does wonders to the film and its ability to give homage. A truly uplifting film.

Paterson fmovies. I am not sure if it is because I appreciate Jim Jarmusch's style or it's because this film is something else, but I absolutely loved it. Throughout the film, I had frisson down the back of my neck. This film made me realize how much I love poetry. I had never realized that I liked poetry, on the contrary, I thought I hated poetry. When the film ended I ran to get my poetry books out and read some of them out loud to myself. This is what cinema is about. It doesn't matter if you like a film or not. If a film makes you feel anything at all, to see from different perspectives and immerse yourself in an imaginary visual and temporal experience that you know it's an illusion from the beginning then the job's done. Jarmusch also always shows how the appreciation of insignificance becomes a soothing state almost like a stoic. I love the feeling of "afterglow" of some films. This film has it. The "afterglow" of every day, ironic, poetic existence.

I decided to watch this film because of two friends who claimed they did not understand what is happening and that they did not know how to watch a movie. I saw the and the answer is simple. In fact, the answer is in the movie itself!

If you are a fan of William Carlos Williams or a fan of Archibald McLeish (both poets), then the answer is throughout the film. Unlike many of today's films, this one celebrates the essence of a film by just being a film. McLeish offers an answer in his poem, "Ars Poetica" where he asserts a poem does not "mean," it simply is.

Williams also offers an answer in his works: there is an inherent value in the the "thingness of things" whether it is the bowl of plums reference in this film or in the red wheelbarrow.

What Jarmush has given us is an excellent example of what these two poets told us years ago: there is value in the small and simple things of life. That is all this film is about and we are told, point blank, at the end of the movie: the Japanese poet asks Paterson if he, too, is a poet. Paterson says, no; he is only a bus driver. The Japanese poet says, "This could be a poem by William Carlos Williams."

And, indeed, that is what we have just seen.

From reflections in a puddle, cardinals singing, waterfalls, a harlequin guitar, shadows, designer cupcakes and more, the love of a creative and happy couple spills over the small town of Paterson, New Jersey. The ordinary becomes extraordinary. Paterson, who shares his name with the community at large, is a bus driver. The daily bus route takes him through the heart of town where Paterson overhears intriguing conversations, records observations in his notebook, generates poems and opens lunchbox surprises from his lovely and artistic wife, Laura. The couple's chemistry, expressed in kisses, constant conversation, cheer and trust, is remarkable. "She understands me really well," says Paterson. Lucky guy. Lucky girl. The attractiveness, talent, color and charm of Laura and Paterson is infused in everything they do including Paterson's nightly tavern visits, the plain yet peculiar meals they have together, waking up in the morning and walking the dog.

Even in all its outward simplicity, there is astonishing and wonderful depth to the film characters, scenes, themes and conversations. This artistic sensibility that is infused in everyday life, is something I loved so much about Japan and Paterson shows what this imaginative awareness looks like in small town North America. Truly there is inspiration and beauty everywhere. While the film delves into music, paintings and other mediums, its main artistic focus is on poetry. There are nods to the poetry of William Carlos Williams, Wallace Stevens and others. The poems Paterson comes up with in his jaunts around town are brilliant and beautiful. A box of Blue tip matches inspires, rather sparks, a love poem. A poem called Another One is about seeing other dimensions, which is what this incredible film encourages itself.

Paterson is delightfully layered with surprising wisdom, complexity, diversity and humor at every turn. Twins make appearances every so often, for example, to remind us of one of the film themes; there is always someone out there like us that matches our hearts, and we are never really alone. Articles and images on a tavern wall take us to other dimensions in time in an instant. The on-screen chemistry between actors Adam Driver (Paterson) and Golshifteh Farahani (Laura) is critical to the film, and they are more than up to the task. They are outstanding, alluring and entirely convincing. The compassion and charm of this film is unforgettable. It reminds us that love and splendor spring from the unlikeliest of places. Seen at the 2016 Toronto International Film Festival.