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directed by Jim Jarmusch
stars Forest Whitaker, John Tormey
Quirky, funny and often touching, Jim Jarmusch’s films have set the standard for one segment of American independent cinema. Jarmusch’s unexpected hit Stranger than Paradise (1984) first exposed a wide audience to his spartan aesthetics, existential scenarios and whimsical, even comical, touches. In works like Down by Law, Mystery Train, Night on Earth and the one mentioned above, sparse sets and dialog reveal both the arbitrary nature of fate and the humanity of the characters in question. These concerns were extended in Jarmusch’s last fiction film, Dead Man (1995), which featured the star power of Johnny Depp. This effort was more of an overt meditation on death, with a host of supernatural illusions, a dark tour de force which Jarmusch pulled superbly. His new piece, Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai integrates many of the ideas from Dead Man, employs a host of his past motifs and pushes in new directions as well.
Ghost Dog depicts the world of the title character (Forest Whitaker), a reclusive but disciplined loner who has become a ruthless and professional hit man. He chooses a ghetto life of poverty because it affords him the best opportunity to practice his personal spirituality, one based on the Japanese philosophy of Bushido, or the way of the martial artist/samurai. Once again there is much humor and many amusing scenes but Jarmusch doesn’t make light of Ghost Dog’s serious commitment to this 16th century code. Rather, the director sensitively sketches, with numerous ironic flashes, a man committed to his path. After Ghost Dog is drawn into a war with a local mafia gang the work is spiced up with rap-loving Italian mafioso, Ghost Dog’s French-speaking best friend that he can’t understand at all, and Ghost Dog’s love for the Japanese classics. In some ways reminiscent of Japanese yakuza film or Hong Kong noir, Ghost Dog is a primo piece of filmmaking. It shows us a man in a trying situation practicing a philosophy of great discipline and beauty. Throw in the ironies as well as the existential expertise of Jarmusch and you have a wonderfully realized work.