grrgoyl

Back again. You just can't shut me up these days.

I finally got to see Broken Flowers, a movie that primarily interested me because of Bill Murray, who I really liked in Lost in Translation. My sis Amy warned me against it; saw it in the theater and thought, "eh." I ignored her review, foolishly. My second red flag should have been the fact that it's directed by Jim Jarmusch. My introduction to Jim Jarmusch came in 1995, when our friend Angela literally dragged me out of bed for a midnight showing of Dead Man. Being in love with her, I agreed, and stayed to watch the whole thing even after Angela and her friends bailed halfway through to go to a party. Oh, how I hated this movie, my state of abandonment notwithstanding. All I remember is every scene ending with abrupt, unexpected fadeouts, until the whole movie starts to blend dreamily together (and I don't mean "dreamily" in a good way). Very hard to follow when you yourself are already in a half-dream state.

Broken Flowers did very little to improve my opinion of Mr. Jarmusch. ( ::read more, if you dare:: )

As a direct response to this movie, I have to write this: An Open Letter to Jim Jarmusch.

Dear Mr. Jarmusch,

For everyone's sake, please don't make another movie again as long as you live. No, I mean it.

Love,
Elaine

I had also hoped to provide you with my thoughts on 1408, but mysterious forces have aligned against