Broken Flowers

Okay, confession time: I like weird movies. I sometimes like "arthouse movies." I like things that are different, thoughtful and unpredictable. I don't like "different" just for difference's sake, but I do like to see something original. And yes, I actually own a copy of My Dinner with Andre.

Atticus rented Jim Jarmusch's Broken Flowers last weekend and we stayed up too late watching it (I always stay up too late watching DVDs that Atticus comes home with, because we never start them until after the kids are in bed. You know you're getting old when you watch the clock for the DVD's start time and think, "I really hope I can stay awake for this whole thing so that we haven't wasted $3.50.")

At any rate, here's the review: I had no trouble staying awake and we loved it. This movie is alternately funny and sad, absurd and heart wrenching, interesting, thoughtful, compelling and a little exasperating, just like its main character.

Bill Murray excels at ennui. And Don Johnston is ennui personified (and, yes, he's an over-the-hill Don Juan, and there's no chance you'll miss that point, since he's watching "Don Juan" when the movie opens and then his friend mentions, roughly 17 times, that he's just like a Don Juan. A small failure in subtlety in the film ....) He can barely get himself to move off of his couch whether it's to stop his latest girlfriend from leaving him or to go to bed. He sleeps there, watches TV there, does nothing there. Getting up off the couch would require ... thought. Effort. Don doesn't seem to want much to do with either of those things.

Then, a mysterious letter arrives, telling Don that he has a son who is 19 years old, and that that son may be trying to find him. The woman who wrote the letter didn't sign it. Don plans to do (what else?) nothing. Until Don's friend, Winston, puts together a plan and an itinerary for Don (because he knows, and we know, Don would never do it himself, but there just might be enough soul left in him to do it if someone else propels him.)

So, he sets out on an odyssey to visit the four women who are candidates for the job of mother-of-his-son. His journey is full of sadness, surprise, humor and pathos. There's one particularly jolting scene of nudity (gratuitous, I'm afraid, and the same thing could have been accomplished with some coverage) that is so sad that I could only shake my head at the character and her motivations. There are too many of these girls in the world, and they're all looking for their fathers. Our anti-hero does, at least, show that his soul is intact when he quickly exits the scene.

And I'm pleased to report that the happiest people in this movie, Don's neighbors, are a happily married couple with five noisy, silly, adorable kids. It's clear that Neighbor Winston loves his wife and children, and that Don can see that they have ... something. He's not entirely sure what, or that he wants it, but he sees it.

And, in the end, I think we see that Don wants something more than the random acts that have so far defined his life. The film is quite ambiguous at the end -- did we meet the son? Did Don? Which woman was it? Clearly it was ... but, no ... maybe not.

I won't say more, as I don't want to ruin it, but it's the kind of film that I appreciate for its depth and level of thought, the kind of thing that has an undercurrent and room for speculation and discussion. I could not have predicted a single thing that happened in Broken Flowers and that alone is high praise for a movie these days.

(Postscript, added Sunday afternoon: Do be aware that the language is rough and the nude scene is full frontal. Men, take note: you'll need to keep "custody of the eyes" right after Lolita -- yes, that's her name -- leaves the room. Your wife will love you for looking away. The film is rated R.)