Two espressos, separate cups

thinking of recent soundtracks, there's only one that immediately springs to mind; the Limits of Control by Jim Jarmusch. granted, this is based on personal taste but i think it's one of the best compiled soundtracks in ages. comprised mainly of tracks by drone-rock masters Boris, amp-worshippers Sunn O))), and Jarmusch's own band, Bad Rabbit, it lends a very stoic film even more weight yet isn't all doom and gloom, as we've come to expect from "stoner rock". Boris, especially, seem to be in rather 'sunny' moods. Jarmusch always has chosen his music well. John Lurie scored two early films, Neil Young improvised solo guitar while watching Dead Man, the RZA did Ghost Dog, and his compilation for Broken Flowers is what introduced me, and undoubtedly many others, to Mulatu Astatke.

but specifically to Limits of Control, the choices work well on several levels:

1) there isn't a ton of dialogue in the movie, and what little dialogue there is is often cryptic instructions, cyclical conversations, and subtly humorous riddles. the music reflects a lot of these qualities in that it is, for the most part, drone- and repetition-based. themes are revisited often, yet not in such a way that the music becomes monotonous or predictable.

2) also much like the dialogue, there is a sense of something below the surface that the filmmaker would rather not reveal to the audience directly. to do so would crumble the film's mystique. the music, likewise, is full of gradually revealing textures; crescendoes which seem endless. catharsis is never quite reached, which keeps the suspense taught.

3) for such a languidly-paced movie, the perpetually-building nature of the music fits perfectly. visually, moreso than any other Jarmusch movie, there is a lot of open space and attention to architecture. the music reflects this in its vast, monolithic structuring.

4) the music provides a unique paradox concerning the lead character and his journey. on the one hand, the music, like the protagonist, is mighty and stoic. it moves at its own pace, not in any hurry to reach some answer or some validation. instead, it/he practices a sort of sonic tai chi; moving slowly, yet with purpose. on the other hand, the music is loud and absorbing. the protagonist is silently intense, saying very little. i get the sense that the music we hear is his brain in motion, his psyche's projection.

the film takes place in Spain (although it's never quite said), and there are several wonderful Spanish recordings and songs that kind of act as puzzle pieces in the movie. they carry just as much weight as the rock groups, too. it's certainly not lite fare. this is Carmen Linares, singing a song called "El Que Se Tenga Por Grande" (rough translation: "he who has greatness", which is a part of one of the recurring riddles.... "If you think yourself great man, then go to the cemetery. there you will see what the world really is, a handful of dirt.")



for a couple weeks, shortly after you left, i'd put this movie on nightly as i laid down to bed. not that it's a sleep-inducer (although, again, it moves rather slowly) but because of the music, the visuals, and the unassuming dialogue. i probably watched it two or three times, in chunks over a few nights. (i also watched Stranger Than Paradise at least once fully).

i miss you, and can't wait to watch movies with you again soon.

LRV, b