I have never seen a film take such a multitude of minor annoyances...

and turn them into such a major annoyance of a film.


Seriously, I don't care how arty you might find this film to be, there is no excuse in having every derivative, horribly realized character ask the lead if he speaks spanish, no? Even the Japanese chick with the excessively thick accent? Seriously? Maybe he was trying to take Andy Warhol's ideas of the aesthetic values of boredom and repetition to heart. I don't know, all I know is it didn't work in any way, shape, or form. Other than making his film look downright silly.


So many silly quirks that aren't explained. The drinking of the two expressos in separate cups issue might not have been overly annoying until Jarmusch made it into a bigger deal than it should have been by making the server as annoyed as a discerning audience would be by focusing upon such inanity. Honestly, who cares? Why would that be significant to anyone?

And sorry, the ridiculously infantile and pedantic repetition of the less than profound observations upon the "true nature" of life and subjectivity were simply elementary level. And they became more and more childish and yes, cheesy, with every iteration.


I can't imagine how pretentious Jarmusch would have to be to imagine any of this worth putting into a film or how deluded fans of this film would have to be to accept any of this as more than hackneyed garbage. Which it objectively is.