Mystery Train - Martedì notte a Memphis

Memphis is the setting, and the specter of Elvis pervades a trio of stories in `Mystery Train,' written and directed by Jim Jarmusch. The three episodes that make up the movie are told separately and in their entirety, though they happen simultaneously in time, and share nothing more than a common local which serves as the hub around which the stories revolve. And with them, Jarmusch does what he does best: he invites the audience in to share some time with the individuals who populate his landscape, as he places them under the microscope to study the minutiae of their lives. In his hands, the details of everyday existence become fresh and new, like the first time you see a new city or make the acquaintance of a total stranger who forever after becomes a part of your life. It's an intimate style of filmmaking, almost voyeuristic, wherein the camera becomes the eyes of the audience and makes the viewer more than a mere onlooker; it places you in the scene, which allows you to experience what the characters are experiencing, to live what they are living. When someone is walking down the street, you're on that street with them, feeling the pavement beneath your feet; in the train depot, you drink in the atmosphere, feeling the texture of the walls, of the aged wood of the benches, smelling the age-old scents of time that hang on the air. You're there with the young couple from Japan, in Memphis to see Sun Studios and Graceland; and with the young widow from Rome, passing through with the casket of her late husband awaiting transport at the airport; and with three young men who have too much to drink and within a few hours find out how quickly life can become so complicated. Jarmusch works with such precision that it makes everything that happens seem spontaneous; it's an innate sense of knowing what works, and how to make that necessary connection with the audience by making all that transpires real. He's a skilled craftsman who knows what he wants and exactly how to deliver it. He creates the proper atmosphere, then introduces you to the characters through which his story will be told. And once the stage is set, Jarmusch knows that `who' these people are and what makes them unique is as important as the story itself, for in a sense, the characters `are' the story. It's an examination of human nature; of traits and of how people function under certain circumstances. And through each character the viewer gets a different perspective on what is happening, along with some insight into how we all relate to one another in a given situation, from the mundane to the bizarre. To tell his tale, Jarmusch has assembled a talented, eclectic cast of actors, including Masatoshi Nagase (Jun) and the charismatic Youki Kudoh (Mitsuko), the couple from Japan with opposing perspectives of Memphis; Nicoletta Braschi (Luisa), the widow awaiting a flight back to Rome; Elizabeth Bracco (Dee Dee), a young woman whose life is in transition; Tom Noonan (Man in Diner), a man with a menacing presence and a strange tale to tell; Steve Buscemi (Charlie), a regular guy led astray by trusting indifference, along with Rick Aviles (Will Robinson) and Lowell Roberts (Lester); Stephen Jones, a dead-ringer for Elvis who is extremely effective here as his ghost; and the two whose characters are pivotal to the story, Screamin' Jay Hawkins (Hotel Night Clerk), and Cinque Lee (The Bellboy). And--heard, but not seen-- Tom Waits (Voice of the Radio DJ). Thoroughly engrossing and highly entertaining, `Mystery Train' is vintage Jarmusch; a director whose minimalist techniques and style make for a satisfying and rewarding movie-going experience. He will not dazzle you with ILM F/X or feed you endless lines of witty dialogue; instead, he gives you more: A film that is artistically and cleverly rendered, with an engaging story and characters that are `real.' An independent filmmaker who stays true to his personal `vision,' Jarmusch gives you that which is rarely found in Hollywood. A film that is truly original. I rate this one 8/10.

What a terrific film for us foreigners. The USA condensed into one bottle. Elvis, Screaming Jay Hawkins, a seedy hotel, an endless steamy night, the desolation, the Guide at the Sun Studios, the Japanese tourists: I don't want to say any more

Jarmusch does a masterful job weaving three stories, portraying simultaneity of action, building a mood and creating believable characters. All the things that Tarrentino would later get credit for in Pulp Fiction are done here and better.

The stories move at less than break-neck pace, so if you need action all the time this is not your film. But a belief in the reality of the world, and a compassion for the characters is wonderfully realized.

Because each of the three stories has it's on rhythm, conflict and characters, some will be drawn more to one part of the trilogy than another. The wonder of this, the mastery shown, is when contrasted with other, lesser writers who attempt this but have three stories all with the same tone - for example in Sin City where everyone acts the same.

I loved Mystery Train (as I had Down by Law). Bapu says check it out.

"Mystery Train" is a witty look at different aspects of one of the crazes of our time, the worship of Elvis Presley. The cast includes cult performers like Tom Noonan (the serial killer in Michael Mann's "Manhunter"), Steve Buscemi, and singer Tom Waits (heard on the radio), and it is directed by one of America's leading independent directors. "Mystery Train" is possibly Jim Jarmusch's most immaculate film, and though the movie gets steadily darker in its comic tone, it is his least bleak work to date. The patterning is precise, the film growing richer as the three strands are finally woven together, or perhaps unwoven, as the characters go their separate ways. Robbie Muller, the great Dutch cameraman who shot Alex Cox's "Repo Man" and Wim Wenders' "Paris, Texas", once more brings an outsider's perspective to the American landscape, giving the night scenes and hotel interiors a Hopperesque look and endowing a dilapidated section of Memphis with an elegaic sadness.

jim jarmusch affects his viewers in curious ways. in mystery train, he presents a series of situations, sometimes filled with off-beat humor, sometimes filled with tenderness, and, in one instance, characterized by one violent moment. on the whole, every moment is affecting, every moment is moving. jarmusch sees the world with such sensitivity and humor, such affection; there is no place for cynics or satirists. jarmusch has never emphasized technical virtuosity. his virtuosity, rather, is his ability to place characters who he obviously cares for in situations which endear them to the audience, his ability to show, with simple gestures and moments (like mitzuko's unorthodox cigarette lighting technique) our beauty, humanity's beauty, is our idiosyncracy and differences. steven soderbergh states that technical perfection is not as important as cinematic energy. jarmusch films have energy; it quiet, polite, lovely energy, but energy nonetheless.