Stranger than Paradise

Stranger than Paradise – July 19, 2007

There's a mysterious allure that keeps one (semi) focused on "Stranger than Paradise," Jim Jarmusch's austere second film. The characters, a small-time swindler from Brooklyn, his dopey pal and his Hungarian emigree cousin who serves hot dogs in Cleveland, are unambitious people who live desperately blah lives. Their pettiness, aloofness and lack of any sort of motivation whatever is funny, but, as uncomplex as they are, a lot seems to be happening on a deeper level. Why does Willie seem to resent his being Hungarian? Why is Eva in America? Why do the guys pursue her and act protective of her as though they are the responsible big brothers to a thirteen-year-old? Is there any lust to their attraction to Eva? Are they content with their listlessness? As in "Broken Flowers," it's the unuttered thoughts and unanswered questions that make the small characters whole and one's imagination enriched. The conclusion, somewhat improbable, seems contrived - especially when compared to the stark realism of the rest of the movie. But any open-ended denouement would suffice; to depart the movie with any traditional sense of resolution would be a cheat.