Father Mother Sister Brother

 

Writer/director Jim Jarmusch

Jarmusch at Venice

Jarmusch on the set

MOTHER FATHER SISTER BROTHER                B+                                                         USA  Italy  France Ireland  Germany  (110 mi)  2025  d: Jim Jarmusch

If too many people like a film I make, I feel like I’ve done something wrong.

I don’t know where the hell she came from in this case, but I generally bring an idea with me for about a year, sometimes more than one, until I finally start writing, very quickly.  In this case it took me three weeks.

My favorite thing is to wake up and have no plan.
—Jim Jarmusch

This is Jarmusch’s version of an Ozu film, exploring the personality-driven intricacies of complex family dynamics, where it’s all about the silences between the characters, as the emotional weight of the film is the exploration of that undiscovered interiority, creating a quietly contemplative aspect to the viewing experience, which seems like an anti-action, puzzle-piece counterpoint to what we’re used to seeing, funny, tender, and astutely observed, yet more than anything it feels personal and refreshingly honest, told in a triptych style, a technique often used in both cinema and literature, and a device he has used before, which is difficult to pull off as invariably some episodes are stronger than others.  In this case they are brilliantly blended together by editor Affonso Gonçalves, while shot in New Jersey, Dublin, and Paris by two extraordinary cinematographers, Frederick Elmes, who shot the first chapter, and Yorick Le Saux, who shot the second and third.  Like all Jarmusch films, this is an experience where nothing and everything happens all at once, where the key is deciphering the many clues hidden between the lines, as there’s plenty of deception or hidden secrets with parents who are protective of their children.  Strangely rejected by the Cannes Film Festival, many have dismissed this as a minor film, in much the way Haiku poetry is derided in the poetry world, too small, abstract, yet it still paints a vivid picture, suggesting there is something noble about the power of art, which can also be terribly deceptive.  This is indisputably the work of a mature artist growing older, grappling with their own sense of mortality, as this is simply where the mind wanders when you get older, feeling spacious and ponderous and completely unpretentious, where there’s something so ordinary and believable about it, with the filmmaker stating his goal, “We wanted to make a small, quiet film.”  Among the earliest and more memorable discoveries of this filmmaker came with the hard-to-find Mika Kaurismäki documentary film, TIGRERO: A FILM THAT WAS NEVER MADE (1994), with Sam Fuller bringing Jarmusch deep into Brazil’s Mato Grosso rain forest jungle, interacting with the Indigenous Karajá people, a group Fuller met and filmed in the mid 50’s for a film that was never made.  The hip modernism Jarmusch brings to such an isolated and secluded region is hard to fathom, as this presents him in a uniquely different light, seeing him in such a remote area wearing a Ramones T-shirt, literally expanding our conception of an artist.  Singer Tom Waits has been part of Jim Jarmusch’s regular cast since the utterly hilarious jailbreak-on-the-bayou movie, DOWN BY LAW (1986), while other notable films include the three-act STRANGER THAN PARADISE (1984), an example of plotless, low-budget, independent filmmaking, Mystery Train (1989), another triptych, a musical pilgrimage to Memphis, Tennessee, home of Sam Phillips and Sun Records, Night on Earth (1991), with five interconnecting, chance encounter stories involving a taxi cab driver and passengers in five cities, Dead Man (1995), an acid western, and still, arguably, his best film, GHOST DOG: THE WAY OF THE SAMURAI (1999), a samurai assassin gangster flick, COFFEE AND CIGARETTES (2003), eleven vignettes connected by the titular theme, BROKEN FLOWERS (2005), a cross-country road trip reconnecting with former lovers, THE LIMITS OF CONTROL (2009), an immersion into the haunted, surreal atmosphere of a paid assassin, Only Lovers Left Alive (2013), a vampire flick, Paterson (2016), a tribute to New Jersey poet William Carlos Williams via a modern day bus driver, and The Dead Don't Die (2019), another absurdist zombie movie.

Winner of the Golden Lion (1st place) at the 2025 Venice Film Festival, carefully constructed to allow small details to accumulate, reminding viewers just what it is to be a film poet, it opens with a hauntingly personalized, bass-heavy jazz performance of “Spooky” by British-German singer-songwriter Annika Henderson (aka Anika), Spooky YouTube (2:11), an original Classics IV song from 1967 that essentially establishes the mood and sets the stage for what follows.  Six years since his last feature, the first thing we notice is that Ozu’s pillow shot transitions (The enigmatic 'pillow shots' of Yasujiro Ozu) have been replaced by abstract flickering light passages between episodes, giving us some time to reflect upon what we see happening onscreen, with each of the three sections taking place in the home of a parent where their estranged children come to reconnect.  Opening on a windy, countryside road filled with bare trees and fresh snow on the ground, two siblings, Jeff and Emily (Adam Driver and Mayim Bialik, apparently catching the eye of Jarmusch as his favorite Jeopardy host) chat amiably on their way to visit their widowed and reclusive father at his lake house, sharing their assessment that he’s not a very trustworthy figure in their lives, turning out to be none other than a grizzled old, confusing-looking Tom Waits, who provides the film’s most powerful performance.  Jeff seems concerned about his financial situation since the death of their mother, wondering how he’s getting by, leading a hermetic life, where everything appears run down, offering assistance when he can, bringing along a box of groceries, while Emily is more skeptical about just how dire his situation is.  The setting of the house, situated right on a lake, is to die for, where anyone would dream of living in a house like that, with the camera lingering on the giant-sized window overlooking the lake.  Nonetheless, the father mentions there are a multitude of needed repairs, but suggests he’s doing as well as he can, but seems to be playing the sympathy card.  Jeff falls for it hook, line, and sinker, while Emily is rather amused by it all, pointing out that he’s wearing an expensive Rolex watch, which the father quickly claims is a fake, where the real drama comes only after they’ve left, placing everything we’ve seen before in a different light.  The truism that Jeff reveals is that you can pick your lovers and friends, but you can’t choose your own family, which more than ever rings true in these interconnected segments.  Written by Jarmusch, this episode sets the tone for spare, minimalist dialogue, with plenty of embarrassing and uncomfortable pauses in between to convey emotional distance, balancing wry, offhanded humor with a steady drip of information, while always remaining understated and moody, with something of an abstract, rhythmic flow about it.  A choreography of interpersonal relationships, pondering whether we ever really know the people closest to us, it shares the methodology of South Korean director Hong Sang-soo films, the maker of small, minimalist dramas, as both filmmakers rely upon the power of observation, with no sentimentality and no false drama, devising intimate scenes with powerful performances where awkwardness prevails, replete with lies, resentment, and love, where this is like the antithesis of a Mike Leigh film, where so much of this would otherwise be so wrenchingly despairing.  What’s most amusing is that Waits has always had something of a subterranean Beat poet vibe, where even at this late stage in his life (age 76), he’s still got a rebellious streak.    

While this is something of an actor’s showcase, with the filmmaker allowing plenty of empty space and room to breathe, remaining subtle and impressive, with a keen eye for detail, yet it begs the question, when was the last time we really talked to our families?  The moving presence of skateboarders is a recurring motif, seen in slow motion directly in the middle of the country road in the opening, while darting in and out of the streets of Dublin and Paris in the next segments.  A contrast between this youthful endeavor and ruminations on mortality is immediately evident.  Two sisters who couldn’t be more diametrically different, a punkish, pink-haired Vicky Krieps as free-spirited Lillith and the much more uptight, conservatively-repressed, almost invisible presence of Cate Blanchett as Timothea reunite with their imperial mother (Charlotte Rampling), a successful novelist who refuses to speak about her work, for their annual afternoon tea, the only time all year when they actually get together, though they all live in Dublin.  Their relations are nothing less than strained, where it all feels so terribly formal, as the host mother has impeccably arranged finger food with an assortment of delectable pastries in an immaculate house where everything is in place.  The conversation feels distant and camouflaged, a chamber piece of passive-aggressiveness, with each daughter vying for attention while struggling with insecurities in their personal and professional lives.  All dressed in the color red, as if pre-arranged, Father Mother Sister Brother Exclusive Movie Clip - Color ... YouTube (2:07), the domineering mother, offering a sense of cold authority, appears to be very high maintenance, while her children come to represent unfulfilled expectations, which may have led to uncomfortable childhoods, so they fidget around nervously at the table, expressing some disquieting tension, where the picture of perfect décors hides what’s simmering underneath, leaving viewers undoubtedly perplexed by what’s not being said.  The final chapter is notable for the parents not being present, as Indya Moore as Skye and Luka Sabbat as Billy are twin black siblings cleaning out a Paris apartment following the mysterious death of their parents in a tragic airplane crash.  Their closeness is immediately evident, seen hugging, kissing, and holding hands as they meet in a café before visiting a now-empty apartment that Billy has taken great care to save all the belongings, seen in an excursion to a local storage locker, but it’s unclear what they plan to do with it all.  These American émigré parents led extremely private yet unorthodox lives, perhaps involved in some spy stuff with multiple identities, and their unconventional lifestyle has left an imprint on their children, both raised in Paris, inquisitive and extremely well educated, where after going through some old photos, childhood drawings, and multiple fake documents, they both become aware of how little they actually knew about them.  There’s even a cameo appearance from the building landlord, Françoise Lebrun from Jean Eustache’s revered magnum opus The Mother and the Whore (La Maman et la Putain) (1973), who reveals that the parents died owing three months’ rent, and that she personally prevented the insurance company from seizing their belongings, an act of kindness that suggests she may have known more about them than her own family.  In their memories there is warmth and tenderness, still learning little secrets about their parents while browsing through their things, discovering small unexplained mysteries.  Blending humor and melancholy, capturing the frustrating yet essential nature of family bonds, the film relies heavily on subtext, recurring visual cues, and uncomfortable silences to convey deep-seated emotions and complex histories, with Dusty Springfield singing a riff on the opening song, Dusty Springfield - Spooky (Just Dusty) - 04 02 1971 • TopPop YouTube (2:39), while a musical collaboration between Jarmusch and Annika Henderson creates a haunting soundtrack, Father Mother Sister Brother | 2025 | Jim Jarmusch & Anika | Original Motion Picture Soundtrack | Original Score | OST, with the Jackson Browne song These Days YouTube (3:35) playing out over the end credits, with the delicate voice of Anika sounding like a reincarnation of The Velvet Underground’s Nico.

Deception (Tromperie)

 

Director Arnaud Desplechin

Desplechin with Denis Podalydès

Desplechin on the set with Léa Seydoux

DECEPTION (Tromperie)                  B+                                                                               France (105 mi)  2021 ‘Scope  d: Arnaud Desplechin

All I can tell you with certainty is that I, for one, have no self, and that I am unwilling or unable to perpetrate upon myself the joke of a self. […]  What I have instead is a variety of impersonations I can do, and not only of myself – a troupe of players that I have internalized, a permanent company of actors […] that forms my repertoire.  But I certainly have no self independent of my imposturing, artistic efforts to have one.  Nor would I want one.  I am a theater and nothing more than a theater.

—Philip Roth, The Counterlife, 1986

Desplechin has always been a literary filmmaker, making a living on fast-paced, yet natural sounding dialogue, where this film is no exception, cleverly adapted from Philip Roth’s 1990 autobiographical novel, his first use of “Philip Roth” as a fictional character, coming during the decade of the Reagan/Bush years defined by the fall of the Berlin Wall, ushering in the era of the Clintons and the Internet.  Written entirely in the form of conversations, eschewing any narrative for the theatricality of straight dialogue, like a stream-of-conscious stage play, Desplechin and his recent cowriter Julie Peyr have collaborated before on 2015 Top Ten Films #7 My Golden Days (Trois souvenirs de ma jeunesse), which won a César award and Lumières award for Best Director, and the less successful psychoanalysis drama Jimmy P: Psychotherapy of a Plains Indian (2013).  In this film, set in London in 1987, it’s never hard to distinguish who’s speaking, dominated by the central character Philip Roth (Denis Podalydès), a middle-age American writer living in exile, describing himself as “a talk fetishist,” who is always gathering material for his next novel, gleaning information from his unhappily married female lover (Léa Seydoux), known only as the English Lover (perhaps a reference to Roth’s wife, British actress Claire Bloom), or several former flames, like Jana (Madalina Constantin), a Czech writer caught up in the insidious drama of the Cold War, Rosalie (Emmanuelle Devos), an American woman stricken with cancer (likely based on American novelist Janet Hobhouse, who died at the age of 42 from cancer), a former student from his teaching days at a university (Rebecca Marder), and his long suffering wife (Anouk Grinberg), as the studio that serves as his refuge where he writes is also the site of his affairs, mixing carnal pleasure into his profession, treasuring every word he hears, where astute listening leads to a private notebook of collected notes.  Told with chapter headings, the conversations occur before, during, and after sex, or in a restaurant, or bar, including flashbacks and advancing time lapses, and even includes an imaginary sequence where he is placed on trial by an all-female court for his overt hatred towards women, with prosecutorial suggestions that the women in his works are all vicious stereotypes.  What this attempts to unearth are the “rude truths” of daily existence, including the worldwide onslaught of anti-Semitism and his lifelong struggle of being an unapologetic Jew, with Roth becoming obsessed with observing the smallest details in his lover’s life, attuned to their most intimate thoughts, the moments of hesitation, or regret, the avalanche of painful revelations, while also maintaining an erotic fascination in the present which seems to keep the home fires burning.  All the characters seem to be in a state of flux except the writer, who has found his place, but at a price, as he feels lonely, exiled from the outside world, so he hungers for the stories these women tell and transcribes their words.  Desplechin used this Roth text in a DVD bonus of KINGS & QUEEN (2004), acting the final scene with Emmanuelle Devos, which was actually seen by the author, who encouraged him to do a cinematic adaptation of the book.    

Such an improvement on Roth’s other screen adaptations, Ewan McGregor’s American Pastoral (2016) or Robert Benton’s THE HUMAN STAIN (2003), but Isabel Coixet’s ELEGY (2008) about a 62-year-old literature professor having an affair with a 24-year-old student certainly hits the mark, becoming a fascinating mix of cultures, getting a feminine perspective from the Spanish duo of Penélope Cruz and Coixet.  Shot during the onset of the pandemic in France, with the slimmest of budgets, where the lockdown mirrors the seclusion of the writer, this film is succinctly fluid, a marvel of kinetic energy, rarely more than two people onscreen at any time, racing through the scenes like a director in the thrall of quick film shoots.  While the subject is middle age, it never grows maudlin or sentimental, exploring their lives in minute detail with a rigorous intellectual curiosity and explosive emotionality, as if eavesdropping into private realms, where both are equally fascinated by this psychological dissection, confessing the lies they tell others, or themselves, revealing the concerns they have about being perceived as weak or too strong, what they’ll tolerate or won’t, as they vent about the multiplicity of flaws in their partners, yet refuse to leave, as the English Lover declares, “The more trivial the defect the more anger it inspires.”  Gorgeously shot by Yorick Le Saux, who has previously worked with Olivier Assayas on 2014 Top Ten List #3 Clouds of Sils Maria, Personal Shopper (2016), and Non-Fiction (Doubles Vies) (2018), Claire Denis on High Life (2018), and Greta Gerwig on Little Women (2019), the lighting is especially impressive, creating a luminous private domain, which only frames and accentuates the rapidity of thought that we experience, where it has the feel of a theatrical stage play, quickly moving between scenes, where the common denominator is emotional authenticity and a lack of pretension, shot through a prism of desire, where Seydoux in particular truly excels in this regard, showing an ease of emotional restraint while expanding her astonishing range.  While she’s always had a sensuous onscreen presence, her probing self-reflective qualities are what stand out, exhibited by an intellectual curiosity balanced against her vulnerability, which are a perfect match for this writer, often seen matching wits, which is what makes her such an alluring muse, as he never tires of being with her.  While they banter about divorced friends, ruined children, and her husband who’s carrying on an extramarital liaison of his own, with a “tootsie” no less, one of the interesting aspects of exposing these personal revelations is viewers can only imagine what these women’s lives are like offscreen, as we never see any of them on their own, living in separate worlds, where they may be figments of the imagination, for all we know, only appearing in brief vignettes, like apparitions, always making reference to their actual lives, where artistic license is literally excavating the essence of who they are and what they have to say, as nothing is off limits in the creative world of fiction, which becomes a kind of utopia, where the author imagines himself, outside his novel, having a love affair with a character inside his novel.

While Philip Roth as the womanizing central protagonist is anything but a philandering hero, the film becomes an exposé on the deception of masculinity and the privilege it brings, as men have the capriciousness to have affairs, commit adultery, and otherwise stray from their empty and disappointing marriages as if it’s a God-given right, with society at large turning a blind eye and never holding them accountable, while women are held to a different standard, with Madame Bovary (originally attacked for obscenity) being the moral handbook on how society condemns women more ruthlessly than men, often turning them into something they’re not, degrading their position and stature, having committed moral sins that are overlooked in men.  This film explores that shadow existence of men, that deceitful web of desire that may as well be invisible, as these sins have been ignored throughout history and never recorded alongside the many accomplishments.  Where does this entitlement come from?  In the surreal court proceeding with the author on trial, the judge mockingly asks, “Can you explain to the court why you hate women?”  It carries with it the absurdist rendering of Kafka, whose portrait hangs on the wall of the office by Philip’s desk, where the protagonist finds himself in foreign territory, an alternate imaginary universe where he is judged accordingly on this day of reckoning, guilty of sexism, misogyny, woman abuse, slander of women, denigration of women, defamation of women, and ruthless seduction, crimes he squeamishly denies, each carrying the most severe penalties.  Pleading artistic license, that a writer uses his imagination to portray real events, just like Shakespeare, something that has been part of the human condition since the invention of language, he is guilty nonetheless, having intentionally published books that cause women suffering.  Just like politicians, artists through the years have learned to become more and more manipulative, where the underlying motive at the heart of a novel is deceit, as the writer intends to deceive the reader into believing things that may have never happened.  That is the nature of their craft.  Having affairs with the wives of his friends, carefully concealed behind a web of lies and deceit, what gall must he have to think anyone out there would be interested, yet he gets away with it due to the fierce honesty and tenderness of what he writes, seducing readers just as he seduces women.  How can that not be infuriating?  And of course it is, as that’s part of the nature of the beast.  Is this really about Philip, the women in his life, or the art of creating, as they are one and the same, blended together into a stream-of-conscious mix of cinematic imagination, where actors help to provide the clarity the story needs.  Reveling in its intimacy, this film has an unusual appeal and is a joy to watch, where Desplechin seems to have been born to film it, with ideas on how to make it gestating in his mind for over thirty years.