Review of The Limits of Control (2009) by Nigel F — 28 Feb 2010

In this day and age of cinema few if any, Jarmusch fans included, will find much to speak of in The Limits of Control and as such the film will continue to be critically despised. Unfortunately, when what is highly regarded these days is flying blue aliens and the umpteenth Iraq war drama there is no room for puzzling, demanding art house fare.

Jarmusch provides no plot, little in the way of character, and the film crawls to its finish without ever really getting the viewer any further than a head scratch; Isaach De Bankol's hired lone wolf moves through time and space with the help of mysterious characters, espresso, railways, and the beauty of a vibrant looking Spain.

Where the film may have been misunderstood is by those who had expected Jarmusch to at least blend aesthetics and absurdity with the plotting of Dead Man or Ghost Dog. Instead, this could be the future Jarmusch had envisioned for cinema while making those previous efforts; a post modern, poetic adventure into what cinema actually is, the realized combination of image and sound.

This exercise though full of pretension is staggeringly beautiful to watch unfold, not only on the image front but also in how Jarmusch plays with repetition and variation as if were its own character and lets Sunn o)))) crush your senses with sound.

On this journey the characters are enveloped by quaint corners of Spain somewhat guiding the loner not with orders and directions but rather with philosophy and rants on old films, cubist works, and antique instruments.

What The Limits of Control does is come off less as a film and more, "like a dream you are not sure you ever had". Many of Jarmusch's trademarks of style, character, and humor are present but they are stripped to almost unrecognizable levels.

This film is not for everyone in fact it's not for many but if you are looking for a challenge this could be worth your while.