Review: The Limits of Control (2009) ****
Isaach de Bankolé in The Limits of Control
Those who like their movies with a strong dose of plot are sure to be irritated by the latest film from Jim Jarmusch. Carefully structured but willfully lacking anything beyond the slimmest of narratives, The Limits of Control is more concerned with setting a mood and ruminating on ideas than it is in traveling from story point to story point. Though its episodic tale of a hitman carrying out a job in Spain is elusive, elliptical and dangerously arty, it offers just enough of a thread to carry those in tune with Jarmusch’s patented laconic groove through to the end. More importantly, it also promises rewards upon repeat viewing.
With a title taken from an essay on mind control by William S. Burroughs and an opening quote from “The Drunken Boat” by the poet Rimbaud, The Limits of Control is brimming with references literary, artistic, cinematic and even to Jarmusch’s other films (Japanese actress Youki Kudoh makes her appearance appropriately on a train), but it’s not deconstructive like the reference-happy Godard nor is it fetishistic like the similarly inclined Tarantino. Though it dabbles in genre like those other two filmmakers, it’s pure Jarmusch – a kind of cross between Dead Man and Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai with a hint of John Boorman’s Point Blank mixed in.
We first see the distorted image of the hitman (played by a charismatic but mostly silent Isaach de Bankolé) performing Tai Chi reflected in the metal door of an airport restroom. In addition to setting the tone of unreality that infuses the rest of the film, it’s an action repeated continuously throughout the film along with ideas, motifs and lines of dialogue that evolve into a sort of incantation promising to summon a deeper truth.
Meanwhile, each of the story’s episodes (featuring different actors including Tilda Swinton, John Hurt and Gael Garcia Bernal in extended cameos) feels a bit like the one that came before, but changed in some way as in a dream returned to on several consecutive nights. This druggy, dreamlike quality is enhanced by the typically gorgeous cinematography of Christopher Doyle (In the Mood for Love), the careful production design by Eugenio Caballero (Pan’s Labyrinth), and an eclectic selection of moody, slow-tempoed music credited to Japanese experimental metal act Boris, but drawn from a wide range of sources that all fit together seamlessly. The result is almost David Lynchian, but with a less ominous and threatening portent.
Playing as much like poetry as cinema, the degree to which The Limits of Control is a satisfying film or simply a loose amalgam of one artist’s current obsessions (or both) will be up to each viewer to decide. After a single screening I won’t pretend to have charted its depths or even promise that it has any, but its style, familiar dry humor and ruminative tone were never less than interesting. Your results may vary depending on how well you’ve liked Jarmusch’s other work, particularly the more metaphysical and inscrutable Dead Man. As a fan of the filmmaker, I unapologetically loved The Limits of Control and I already look forward to sitting down with it again.
The Limits of Control. USA 2009. Written and directed by Jim Jarmusch. Cinematography by Christopher Doyle, Edited by Jay Rabinowitz. Production design by Eugenio Caballero. Starring Isaach de Bankolé, Hiam Abass, Gael Garcia Bernal, Paz de la Huerta, John Hurt, Youki Kudoh, Bill Murray and Tilda Swinton. 1 hour 56 minutes. MPAA rated R for graphic nudity and some language. 4 stars (out of 5)
Filed under: Reviews
Tags: Bill Murray, Christopher Doyle, Eugenio Caballero, Gael Garcia Bernal, Hiam Abass, Isaach De Bankole, Jay Rabinowitz, Jim Jarmusch, John Hurt, Paz de la Huerta, The Limits of Control, Tilda Swinton, Youki Kudoh
This is an extremely difficult film to review, especially after one viewing, but I like your thoughts here.
Midway through I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not – I was impressed with the tone and style, but maybe a tad underwhelmed by the narrative. But then, as the film progressed, I realized narrative was sort of irrelevant here, and by the end I thought it was beautiful, maybe one of his best.
The repetitive nature of the film, the way certain objects, images, character traits, dialogue repeat over and over (“you don’t speak Spanish, right?”, the Tai Chi, viewing the art in the museum, the way specific images focus in and out), it casts a spell on the viewer. Hypnotic, haunting, mysterious.
I felt something similar when I first saw “Dead Man”, which I’d say is arguably his best film. “Limits of Control” is a very worthy companion piece.
Ari I was touch and go on this one even after the fact. I had this creeping sense that Jarmusch was just kind of twiddling his thumbs, and yet I couldn’t deny that the film stuck with me.
At first I thought the repeating moments were just meant for laughs, and to a point they are funny, but like you I zeroed in on the hypnotic quality of them…like an incantation as I said in the review.
Though the plot was very thin, the ending clicked for me and suddenly the whole thing made a kind of sense. One of the keys for me was the Tilda Swinton scene where she was comparing movies to dreams and it got me to thinking of the film itself as a kind of dream.
I’d agree that Dead Man is his most ambitious film with Limits of Control right up there, though I wouldn’t want to have to pick his best one. My favorite ones are Mystery Train and Ghost Dog, though again I’m not sure I’d say they’re the best.
I’m afraid to read what critics are saying about this one, but your response to it encourages me that I’m not completely in the wilderness.
Craig, you’ve taken a load off of my mind … I love Jarmusch and was somehow suckered into thinking this might be as bad as the critics have said (current tomatometer: 21%). I’m glad it’s just another case of the (false) choice of story versus style, or style vs substance, or whatever its being called.
Rick, if you’re a fan, I’ll be especially interested to hear what you think of it. As Chuck said in the Watercooler thread, Jarmusch is one of those artists you’re either on board with or you’re not. I’m on board so I give the guy a lot of leeway (I wasn’t completely convinced even then until I sat and thought about it a bit).
I tend to go with the Jarmusch that’s more tangibly human. I love the Tom Waits/Iggy Pop sketch in Cigarettes and Coffee. I love the Cate Blanchett and Alfred Molina/Steve Coogan sketches as well. Portions of Broken Flowers had the trademarked, self-conscious, Jarmusch kook that gets on my nerves, but the ending was wonderful, and that might be my favorite of the Bill Murray “I Am Sad” series that several filmmakers have been contributing to.
There was one problem with Flowers that a few critics mentioned that’s silly and egocentric, Murray had devastated ALL of the lovers he visits. One wonders if he’s that unforgettable, particularly with the evidence we’re given in the film.
I’m quite fond of the Winona Ryder/Gena Rowlands sketch in Night on Earth too.
The more you say, the more I’m dreading your response to LoC, Chuck. Of course we can still be friends if/when you hate it, but to paraphrase Obi Wan Kenobe, this is not the Jarmusch you are looking for.
Ah well. They can’t all be winners.
Loved the film a lot although I continue to feel that its not the best films of Jim.
Thanks for stopping by Kenny. I’m inclined to agree, though I’d like to see it a couple more times before deciding once and for all.
Excellent review Craig. As always I feel like you’ve left me with a clear sense of and feel for the film artistically. The only other review I’ve read for it was Manohla’s and you both key off some of the same aspects, with your take being more favorable.
I’m nervous to read what others are saying about it for some reason. It wasn’t an easy film for me to review.
Good review, Craig. I’m inclined to think that Manohla has a lot of difficulty with the film, as most of her review relates the plot (what there is of it) and various character and set details. When she seems befuddled by a movie, that’s usually what she falls back on.
And Limits of Control has no lack of befuddling to do. I was at a loss as the movie ended, uncertain if it’s a masterpiece or a misfire. I think I’m leaning towards it being closer to the former, although I could also see an argument that it is the latter.
I was afraid going into this that I’d react like I had to Lynch’s Lost Highway, a movie I deeply admire in certain specific bits but kinda loathe as a whole. My overall reaction to Limits of Control is more positive but I admit that this is a very difficult and demanding cinematic experience. And it did remind me of Lynch too, Craig, from the dreamlike tone to the eerie sound and visuals to the occasionally disturbing visual metaphors and pacing.
All in all, I think there’s a lot to absorb for Jarmusch fans here and I really like that Jarmusch has just swung for the fences with this, completely ignoring the need to satisfy a typical audience by instead satisfying his own artistic drives.
I also can’t help feeling that Doyle deserves a huge debt of credit for the amazing visuals of this movie, which are starkly different from any other Jarmusch movie I’ve seen. It’s a gorgeous film, a beautiful meditation…but on what exactly I’m still not sure.
Gotta love a good cinematic puzzle like this, one that can be scrutinized and absorbed repeatedly or simply felt and left alone. Either way, it’s not your father’s hitman movie.
Regrettably, I haven’t seen the film again yet, but I’m inclined not to call it a misfire (I had to think about it for a while, but obviously settled on 4 stars).
It certainly isn’t going to appeal to a very big audience, but I think it’s a good extension of the things Jarmusch has been playing at for 25 years.
And yeah, it looked and sounded great.
Just watched it. Still mulling it over, but I thought it was sort of brilliant. Not an accessible or easy film to watch. My husband hated it.
For all its tightly wound structure and deliberateness, I think it was also paradoxically an expression of great unfettered creativity. Which of course is the theme, imagination v. control, and how each employs the other. The narrative blanks were for me an invitation, a blank canvas of could-be’s on which Jarmusch welcomes us to play. It seems ridiculous to me that a film that so explicitly and interestingly discusses our creative impulses and expressions through music, art, memory, film, nonconformity, hallucinations, dreams and reflections could be seen as being empty and meaningless. It’s not empty, it’s just different. We stare at it with the intensity (or in many critics’ opinions it seems, dismissive boredom) with which we look at a piece of art in a museum, and take away from it what we will.
I thought the climax a bit literal, but probably necessarily so. The toupee on the skull made me laugh.
Much to think about. This is a good thing. I wish more people had the patience and curiosity to press beyond the most superficial levels presented here and see what Jarmusch is really challenging us to do with his dreamlike film. I feel like I could watch this one a dozen times and get a dozen different experiences from it, whereas with more overtly plotted films, everything is on the surface, music/emotional cues and all. As an audience, it’s a little like the difference between following the conductor’s every direction as a musician in an orchestral ensemble, and being part of a much smaller group sitting back playing jazz.
Also: gorgeous. Doyle’s now on up there with Deakins in my book.
I generally have a low threshold for pretentious twaddle but I fell for this. It didn’t work like a story, but more like music combined with painting. I watched it again recently and it just sucked me in. It wasn’t a movie so much as an experience.
And I’m not just getting off on the literary and cinematic references because I missed half of them.
I was actually a little bit grateful for the literal ending. Happy as I was to let the film carry me along in it’s repetitive vague way, I was happy to leave the theater feeling like there really was a narrative point behind it.
Plus, yeah, Doyle.
Reading those last two comments made me think you two could just as easily be talking about Inland Empire. There’s no reason not to be expecting something like this from Jarmusch, but I think folks went into the theater expecting one thing and got this and it just didn’t click for a lot of people. To be fair, it’s definitely a film made for Jim Jarmusch and his fans and while I’m not trying to be negative here, one could label it self-indulgent. But you could say the same things about David Lynch, yet he tends to get a pass and Jarmusch gets roundly criticized for his film. And while you could say that Lynch’s Inland Empire is more successful overall, I think that is a somewhat subjective response.
I had a very hard time with Limits of Control but I liked it well enough to be satisfied with what I got.
It’s totally self indulgent, I don’t think you can argue that, but I would argue that self indulgence doesn’t have to be a bad thing. If you’re on board the indulgence, it works.
Real self indulgence would be forcing all of my friends to watch this movie.
I don’t have a problem with self-indulgence as long as it yields something I can enjoy. One could argue that the entire Coen brothers’ filmography is a littany of self-indulgence and yet I’d have it no other way. Same could be said for most of Soderbergh’s career too. But if it yields great cinema, then what’s the problem?
That’s the key with Limits of Control. I’m not so delusional that I can’t see where lots of people might have a problem with it, yet I personally found it engaging and kind of hypnotic, even after a second viewing.
To a point I can try and explain why that is, but I’m afraid I took my best crack at it in the review and didn’t do very well.