skateboarding

Three stories, each with a flicker of something that never quite holds. Jarmusch’s deadpan usually finds the warmth under the stillness; here the stillness is mostly just… still. Whatever thread runs through them (family as obligation? as performance?) is far too faint.

My son’s first viewing of the trilogy continues. He liked this one a lot.

As a kid I was mesmerised by the scene at the end where Joe Flaherty turns up with the letter. Blew my mind.