Jim Jarmusch's latest is a hard film to defend. There's little pretention of character or dramatic arc, just some mytical stereotypes in search of a storyline. It's his most surreal, dream-like film. While the sturcture follows that of his earlier "Broken Flowers"(lonenly voyager, rituatalistic stops along the way, objects full of unrealized symbolic potential...etc), there's little narrative drive. Whereas Bill Murray was looking for something(outer and/or inner), Isaach De Bankolé's path is shaped by outside forces. He is a hired hitman, an idealized professional who has no personal emotions. He doesn't search anything. He follows his clues, glances around silently, meditates and enjoys his two espressos in separate cups(as one critic noted, never a double espresso!). Meanwhile, the world around him is as active/surreal as it can be, populated by quirky characters and philosophies. Everything is both meaningful and meaningless, from the birds that suddenly fly from the roofs, the paintings at the museum, to the coded meassages that come in a peculiar matchbox. It's up to our character to give meaning and decode these messages. While Jarmusch leaves us struggling with these issues, our hitman walks trough all this like some kind of a Zen master, contemplative but never to be detracted by any complications.
The ending is a symbolic death, but it's handled in a true professional/Zen master spirit. Here's the final stop of the journey, the moment our hitman is about to accomplish his goal, and yet, it's just another stop along the way: No sentimentalism, no climactic impact. The scene is anti-Hollywood both in terms of narration and its view of life. After all, as the film elegantly implies, there are no final destinations but ony new beginnings.
