Dir.
Jim Jarmusch, 2003, USA, 95mins
Cast: Cate Blanchett, Iggy pop, Joie Lee, Roberto Benigni, Steve Buscemi, Steven Wright, Tom Waits, Alfred Molina, Steve Coogan, Bill Murray
"Coffee and cigarettes. That's like the breakfast of champions," says Bob, played by Jim Jarmusch in Wayne Wang's 1995 Blue in the Face. Bob likes cigarettes so much he wakes himself up in the middle of the night to smoke one. Jarmusch's obsession with black and white, be it coffee and cigarettes or celluloid goes back a long way. He shot the first of the eleven comic vignettes that comprise Coffee and Cigarettes seventeen years ago with Roberto Benigni and Steven Wright playing two unlikely characters that strike up an awkward conversation across a checkered café table between sips and drags. This scene opens the film and sets the tone for all the stories that follow. The eclectic cast ranges from underground musicians to mainstream actors, many familiar from Jarmusch's earlier films. But the keenly observed dialogue is the real star in this film, carrying across each conversation and inspiring some wonderful acting. Trademark Jarmusch, there are awkward moments of misunderstanding, surreal situations, obscure references, but also tender moments and dry humour.
Jarmusch's orchestrations always produce interesting contrasts; Cate Blanchett is stunning, playing two roles, herself and her irreverent slacker cousin meeting briefly in between interviews at a press junket. Iggy Pop and Tom Waits, over caffeine and nicotine discuss the virtues of Ihop coffee and, like a measure of manhood, whose music is on the jukebox. Jack and Meg White, from the rock band the White Stripes, muse over the theories of Nicola Tesla as Jack excitedly shows Meg his Tesla coil. Steve Buscemi is a manic waiter spouting theories about Elvis's long lost twin brother to twins Joie and Cinqué Lee. Maybe the strangest scene is when herbal tea drinking GZA and RZA from seminal Staten Island hip-hop band the Wu-Tang Clan notice their waiter is Bill Murray. "You're Bill Murray, Bill Groundhog Day, Ghostbusting ass Murray " says GZA as Murray proceeds to drink his coffee straight from jug. One of the many connections in this film, RZA was responsible for the atmospheric soundtrack that helped define the feel of Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai, Jarmusch's last film. There are insightful observations on celebrity, no more so than when Alfred Molina and Steve Coogan play themselves sharing a pot of tea in Hollywood. Alfred has traced his family tree only to find they are cousins, but Coogan, now the talk of the town, snubs Molina, until Alfred gets off the phone to Spike Jonze that is.
There are recurring themes, both visual and narrative that bind the scenes together, and having been made over such a long period, the beautiful black and white photography is remarkably consistent. The camera is fixed and unobtrusive in the main, giving an almost theatrical feel to the performances. The exception is an iconic shot looking down on each table as hands reach out for cups on the checkerboard; along with the sugar, milk jug and cigarette packet giving the appearance of chess pieces on a board. Unfortunately there is repetitious mention of the films title in the script feeling a little contrived, heavy handed and unnecessary
Coffee and Cigarettes brings to mind early Spike Lee, but this film owes most to European cinema. Focusing on the everyday human moments, in between the action that provides the core of contemporary American cinema, was the staple of Jarmusch until Tarantino so successfully married it with bloody action in the early nineties, culminating in a triumph of style over content. With all the Indy posturing coming out of Hollywood at the moment used mainly as a marketing tool, it is refreshing to see a genuine American independent still shooting on film stock. Not only is Coffee and Cigarettes the real thing, it is extremely funny.
Gavin Bush
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