Wednesday, 5 March 2014

Only Lovers Left Alive


Vampires - the word usually makes my skin crawl with thoughts of cliches and overzealous teens, but if anyone could be relied on to save the name of a classic of the horror genre then surely Jim Jarmusch would be our man? Well I left the cinema tonight with Only Lovers Left Alive striding into top spot for my favourite film of 2014, and overtaking it is certainly going to be a challenge left only for the brave.

The supernatural aspects of the film form more of an undertone, which allows the other features of Jarmusch's exceptional directorial talents to take centre stage. If subtlety is found in an insertion of humour, mainly taken through clever quips and an underlying wit that adds a level of charm that is hard to resist; then the luxuriance lies in the decadence of the set design and clothing. The immense detail to each scene, with a literal feast for the eyes, creates an immersive experience. Yet, careful in his selection, the depiction is in no way a random accumulation of props. Rather, Jarmusch creates a nod to a history of the art world that culminates as a portrait of many of the great minds that have sculpted our world. Contrasted with an acknowledgement of the affect 'these zombies' have done had on the current state of affairs, there is a recognition of the unattainability of a creative past that has been consumed by a mindless disregard and contamination of the self. 


Though perhaps seemingly indulgent in luxuriant settings, what actually comes across is an understated and modest appreciation of everything manifested around us. It is through such an attentive direction that the characters are able to develop without a possession of overbearing personalities or an excess of lines. What Jarmusch succeeds in doing is allowing the film to breathe and it is through this that its potential is fully realised. What we are ultimately left with is a portrayal that comes together as more of a piece of art in itself than simply an appreciation of the forms. The result is painstakingly beautiful, with each scene somehow stealing away from the glory of the last. 123 minutes are spent in silent awe that seems to nourish the soul with the perfect injection of aesthetically pleasing moments - moments that I cannot speak for anywhere near as close as they can for themselves. This is not only one not to be missed, but one to be valued in its seamless creation of a work of art.


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