In Paterson, Adam Driver lives an idealized version of life as a bus driving poet where everything is calm and serene.
In Jim Jarmusch’s Paterson, Adam Driver plays a gentle poet named Paterson, who drives a bus in Paterson, New Jersey. His lives an idealized version of life as a bus driver. There are no crazy bus passengers. Sounds never reach a din. A married couple can live comfortably on Paterson’s income alone. Here, the contemplative life is as accessible as in a remote monastery, and almost as quiet, too. Although the film delights in the mundane — Paterson finds inspiration for his poetry from the matchbox in their kitchen — make no mistake: the film is a fantasy. And for a couple of hours, it’s a blissful, peaceful world to live in, where you glimpse excitement from a distance.
Paterson’s existence is preternaturally quiet. Jarmusch chooses mostly still frames, each one lingering for a few seconds, without much camera movement. The sounds from the outside world, like the bus ignition or a passing siren, filter into Paterson’s consciousness, but they’re at such a muted volume that they never intrude. The loudest thing in the film’s soundscape is the sound of Paterson’s thoughts: in voiceover, we hear him thinking through his poems as the words appear on screen.The loudest thing in the film’s soundscape is the sound of Paterson’s thoughts.Click To Tweet
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