When it was released in 1995, Dead Man puzzled many audiences and critics. Jim Jarmusch's reputation was for directing slick, hip contemporary films. And Dead Man was a black-and-white Western. As time has passed, though, the number of its admirers has grown considerably. Indeed Dead Man, with its dark and unconventional treatment of violence, racism and capitalism, may be Jarmusch's finest work to date. This is Jonathan Rosenbaum's view. For him, Dead Man is both a quantum leap and a logical next step in Jarmusch's career, and it's a film that speaks powerfully to present-day concerns. Starring Johnny Depp as the uprooted accountant William Blake and Gary Farmer as his enigmatic Native American companion, Nobody, and with startling cameos from Robert Mitchum, John Hurt and Iggy Pop, Dead Man is by turns shocking, comic, and deeply moving. This book explores and celebrates a masterpiece of 1990s American cinema.
چند سال پیش فیلم را دیده بودم و می توان گفت نکات اصلی فیلم را در نیافته بودم. اواسط کتاب فیلم را دوباره دیدم مطالعه کتاب و البته بینش بدست امده در طول این چند سال تماشای فیلم را بسیار لذت بخش کرده بود.
مثلن درباره ی توتون: در فیلم بارها از شخصیت اصلی -و گاهی از دیگر شخصیتها- پرسیده میشود که توتون داری و بلیک در جواب میگوید من که سیگار نمی کشم. " نگرش غربیها به این مسئله خنده داره:"مردم به این ماده معتادند و فکرش رو بکن چه پولی از این راه میشه به دست آورد" برای مردم بومی ، توتون هنوز یک آیین مقدس است، چیزی است که شما به خانهی دیگران میاورید، چیزی است که هنگام دعا و نیایش میکشید. گاهی اوایل صبح قبل از فیلم برداری با افراد بومی گروه به دامنهی تپهها می رفتیم و نیایش میکردیم و توتون میکشیدیم. کتی در یک پیپ مخصوص و ایینی توتون میریخت و آن را دور میگرداند و ما با کشیدن توتون خودمان را تطهیر میکردیم"
An exemplary analysis of one of the great American indies. Rosenbaum acknowledges the political, philosophical, cinematic, spiritual, and literary facets of Jarmusch’s complex film. There is also a brief section concerning Harvey Weinstein’s maltreatment of the movie due to Jarmusch’s nonconformity. Luckily, Jarmusch stood up for himself because a mainstream cut of Dead Man would have been bizarre and safe. Anyways, this is a great film book about a motion picture I adore. Watch Dead Man. Then, read the Rosenbaum.
When Jim Jarmusch's DEAD MAN was released in the USA, critics and the public for the most part didn't seem to know what to make of it. Though it did get a fair number of good reviews, most of those were from the "elitist" critics - Siskel and Ebert among others weren't fans. Miramax, it's distributor, unceremoniously dumped it with a minimal release during the summer - hardly the best time for a difficult and challenging art film that nonetheless with a major star (Johnny Depp) might have turned some respectable business - because the director, Jim Jarmusch, refused to cut it into what they considered a more palatable shape.
We should all be glad that Jarmusch held his ground. In Chicago and a couple of other cities, and in France and Japan, the film did reasonably good business, and in the decades since has come to be considered something of a modern classic. I consider it one of the greatest of all American films and unquestionably the greatest western since the 1970s, and this little volume in BFI's "Modern Classics" series by Jonathan Rosenbaum, a Jarmusch friend and admirer and immediate champion of the film, is ideal in helping to expand on one's appreciation of this deceptively challenging work.
Rosenbaum's book is divided into chapters that detail various aspects of the film's concerns, and the director's place in the American cinema at the moment. A listing:
1 - Jim Jarmusch as American independent, DEAD MAN as dealbreaker 2 - The Story 3 - On Tobacco 4 - On Violence 5 - On Music 6 - On the Acid Western 7 - Frontier Poetry 8 - Closure
Some discussion of the director's earlier work is included, and a fair amount about the film succeeding, GHOST DOG: WAY OF THE SAMURAI. The situation of Jarmusch as a poet (as opposed to a storyteller) in cinema, as an heir to the European avant-garde, and as a radical alongside such figures as Monte Hellman from the 70s is nicely detailed; what I missed was more depth on how the film functions in relation to both the classical westerns of Mann, Boetticher, Hawks, and Ford, and the more modern "mainstream" endeavors by people like Eastwood - who I don't believe is once mentioned. Still one can't have everything in a 96-page pocket-size book that has room for some stills, and I recommend this warmly to all fans of the film in any case.
Same as ever with a lot of these BFI things, too short to be of great use but generally do a good job of getting the information across quickly. A big help to me though cause I think I've only read like 1 William Blake book in my time so good to get a better understanding of how the postmodernism works in the movie.
" Much of the latter remains on Blake's face for the rest of the film, just as the identity of the poet William Blake eventually merges with his own - most clearly when he asks the marshals, 'Do you know my poetry?' before killing them. According to the film's alchemy whereby the poetry of Blake becomes a form of Native American wisdom, an accountant named Blake becomes both the poet and a Native American. Indeed, in this respect, Blake might be regarded throughout the film as a kind of mystic writing pad bearing the traces of other signatures ".......