Jim Jarmusch goes deep into self-reflexive mode with a visually poetic but substantively shallow narrative about a hired assassin with no name (Isaach De Bankole).
Ostensibly about the nature of man’s ability to extract from people and situations what his imagination inspires, the film follows the mostly-silent Zen master/freelance killer as he travels through Spain. Our stylish killer meets with various contacts to receive similar matchbooks that include coded instructions to be promptly memorized and swallowed.
Cameo performances by the likes of Tilda Swinton, John Hurt, Gael Garcia Bernal, and Bill Murray fill in only half of the blank that is Jarmusch’s microscopic cinematic canvas.
In love with abstract settings that might seem more at home in a David Lynch movie, Jarmusch is keen to make an art-for-art-sake film that values tone above all else. Watching “The Limits of Control” is like looking at an art instillation that dares you to lower your expectation to its level. The game is fixed. Jim Jarmusch is capable of much better.
Rated R. 116 mins.
