“You’re looking awfully pale there, Dr. Caligari.”
The H-Bomb: Reclusive musician Adam (Tom Hiddleston) is living a lonely, nocturnal life in Detroit. He rarely leaves his cramped apartment, full of old musical instruments and analogue technology, and his only human contacts are his gopher, Ian (Anton Yelchin), who tracks down various musical nitnacks for him, and Dr. Watson (Jeffrey Wright), who supplies him with purified blood. Yes, Adam is a vampire who has lived for many centuries and has quite literally, seen it all, having met and influenced many notable artists, musicians, and even scientists over the ages.
Now, Adam is bored and depressed over the current state of humanity and the world in general. He feels that these are truly mediocre times, and that the human race is on a cultural and intellectual decline. So sullen is he, that he even has a wooden .38 bullet custom made, should he finally make the decision to check out for good.
Adam’s departure plans, however, are interrupted by a call from Eve (Tilda Swinton), his vampire lover, who has been walking the Earth for about as long as he has, and has been living in Tangiers these last few years. Sensing that Adam is down in the dumps, Eve decides to join him in Detroit. Upon her arrival, the two of them reconnect by listening to trippy music, reminiscing of ages gone by and long dead celebrities they once knew, and roaming the desolate streets of Detroit.
Together, they live the idyllic bohemian life that I suppose immortals would live; sleeping by day, fucking and pontificating by night. Then Eve’s unruly little sister, Ava (Mia Wasikowska), turns up on their doorstep. It’s not bad enough that she’s an obnoxious twit who Adam absolutely cannot stand, Ava is also completely oblivious to their strict Harm No Humans rule. Ava inevitably acts up, shattering Adam and Eve’s little love bubble and throwing their isolated world into total upheaval.
Imagine Stranger than Paradise with vampires, and you have Only Lovers Left Alive. That’s really the best way to put it. It’s not a horror film, nor is it some mushy, gushy Twilight soap opera. There isn’t even much of a plot to speak of. This is pure Jim Jarmusch through and through. Low key, off beat, with an extra dry sense of humor. It was that sense of humor that was missing from Jarmusch’s last picture, The Limits of Control, and that’s why that one came off as such an insufferably pretentious bore. Now, Jarmusch has found his funny bone, again, and can finally reclaim his title as the king of cinematic cool.
I must stress, this is Jarmusch at his most Jarmuschiest, meaning that, for mainstream audiences, this is not. Only Lovers Left Alive is as an existential mood piece of the uber-artsy variety, in which not a whole hell of a lot happens. Naturally, not everyone’s cup of tea. Sometimes movies like this work (Elephant), sometimes they don’t (Somewhere). It all depends on the little things, like the characters and their relationship, which in this case, is genuine and fascinating all on it’s own. Hiddleston and Swinton are impeccably matched here.
Unlike Twilight, which had to try oh so desperately to sell its hollow romance, here we just believe that this couple has been together for ages (or through the ages, as the case may be). Swinton and Hiddleston seem so simpatico, so used to each other, that there’s no need for them to constantly declare their undying love for each other, it’s apparent from watching them. Their conversations cover all sorts of topics, from the state of mankind, to the future of Detroit, to the childhood home of Jack White, all the while, their relationship comes off as entirely unforced and authentic.
With some truly gorgeous nighttime cinematography by Yorick Le Saux, that pulls off the impossible feat of making Detroit look beautiful, and a hypnotic score (mostly by Jarmusch’s own band, SQURL), Jarmusch manages to accomplish something that Stephanie Meyer could not… create an engaging love story between vampires. Some may find it slow, dull, and perhaps a bit too hipster, and that’s perfectly understandable. As I stated earlier, this is not a film for the masses, Jarmusch’s films seldom are. But, if you just let yourself go with the movie’s leisurely flow and pitch black sense of humor, you might just enjoy the ride.
And man, does this flick have a mean sense of humor. It’s easily Jarmusch’s funniest film in ages… probably even the funniest he’s ever made, with Hiddleston biting into his role with snarky relish. He is simply fantastic as the bitter creature of the night whose disdain for the modern world and the living “zombies” who run it drips from his every word. Matching him is Swinton, who is perfectly cast as the coolly deadpan Eve. Together, they make the cutest undead couple.
The supporting cast makes the most of what precious few moments of screen time they have. Wasikowska is appropriately annoying as Eve’s brat of a sister, Yelchin is ideally clueless as Adam’s hapless human errand boy, and the always great Wright is amusingly quirky as the doctor who takes Adam’s money, gives him his blood, and asks no questions. Best of all, is John Hurt’s terrific turn as a fellow vampire, who is in actuality an Elizabethan era playwright of some note, who late in the film makes an incredible claim against another writer from that era… that’s all I’ll say about that.
What is there left to say? After the excremental Limits of Control, I thought Jarmusch had lost his groove for good. Only Lovers Left Alive, it pleases me to say, has proven me dead wrong. Sure, the constant name dropping of historical figures got a little tiring, and naming the lead couple Adam and Eve… really, Jim? Really? Those very minor annoyances aside, Only Lovers Left Alive is an intoxicating meditation on love, death, and un-death, that may very well be Jarmusch’s best work to date.
