Night on EarthNo matter the city, there are certain constants in life, like the dynamic that exists between a taxi driver and a passenger. Night on Earth is a series of five episodes set in five cities across the globe, all one night at the same time, and all featuring the simple enough premise of a cab driver picking up a fare, escorting them to their destination. The stories that follow however, all speak to basic truths about humanity, and evoke varied emotions, from poignancy, uproarious comedy, contemplation, and even tenderness. With a setting both intimate and claustrophobic, the taxi becomes akin to an enclosed psychiatric couch.
|
|
Night on Earth begins in Los Angeles, where the very young--but a bit rough--cabbie named Corky (Winona Ryder) offers to ferry Hollywood casting agent, Victoria Snelling (Gena Rowlands) from the airport to her home in Beverly Hills. The two women couldn't appear more different, but share some similarities, such as their respective phone calls which end the same way, leading to their encounter, and a concern about what their prospects with men are. There is a kind of mother-daughter dynamic played at in the episode, called out when Corky snidely remarks, "okay, mom", after Victoria tells her to turn her music off when she is on her portable phone. Corky surprises Victoria by turning down her offer at a shot in the movies, because Victoria, like so many big shots, has come to expect that everyone comes to California with stars in their eyes--Corky is far more grounded. In New York, a tense young man named YoYo (Giancarlo Esposito) is unable to get a cab, but is picked up by a former East German clown turned neophyte taxi driver named Helmut (Armin Mueller-Stahl), whose driving and navigation skills are so poor that YoYo is forced to take the wheel to ensure he gets home at all, picking up his foul-mouthed sister-in-law, Angela (Rosie Perez), along the way. The two men tease one another about their respective names and the coincidence that they wear similar Laplander hats. Across the Atlantic in Paris, a taxi driver native to the Ivory Coast (Isaach De Bankolé) puts up with only so much accosting from a pair of arrogant African ambassadors, and picks up an attractive blind woman (Béatrice Dalle) as his next fare in the hopes it will be a reprieve from an otherwise frustrating day. He turns out to be mistaken when the woman is also short with him; their initially terse exchange gives way somewhat as he inquires about her disability, intrigued both by how pretty she is and also how she is literally "color blind", since the driver has encountered a good deal of racism in his time in France. In Rome, the streets host the manic enthusiasm of Gino (Roberto Benigni), who speaks as though it were a race, and drives much the same way, entertaining himself with his own madcap humor. Gino's eccentricities are evident from the moment we see him wearing sunglasses at night while driving the wrong way down one-way streets, doing impressions at his dispatch radio. He picks up a priest (Paolo Bonacelli) with a heart condition, and Gino inadvertently tests his wellness by forcing him into hearing his outrageous confession, a comical monologue about pumpkins and far more. Finally, in Helsinki, a taxi driver named Mika (Matti Pellonpää) is forced to endure three drunks complaining about how their night of binge drinking was to help their now unconscious friend forget his terrible day. Mika's response that it "could be worse" comes across like a dare to the factory workers, but Mika enlightens them by disclosing a moving story to give them perspective.
What makes Jim Jarmusch's Night on Earth fascinating as a vignette film is how although each scene is about a cab ride, each is also different enough to give the scenes unique character and personality. In fact, each scene feels rooted in a tonal style suited to the locale in which it's set, capturing cultural idiosyncrasies and regional traits perfectly. The scenes begin in Los Angeles and migrate eastbound to Helsinki, as if the movie were running opposite with the sun, invariably colliding with it. After each scene, the five clocks displaying the time rewind, like actors in a play returning to starting positions. The scenes in Los Angeles and New York feel fairly grounded in realism, or at least appear that way to me as an American, to be fair. The scenes in Europe carry a bit of romanticism or dramatics to them, but are no less interesting as a result. The scenes in America also play on certain American expectations for the residents of these cities; as mentioned, Victoria is surprised by Corky's dismissal of her offer to be a movie star. Helmut is the quintessential New York immigrant cabbie, struggling to make it in the Big Apple, but pursuing a path that seems almost cliche, as though its the job he feels he's expected to do when he comes to the United States. Helmut is actually overly accommodating and good-natured, in part due to his past as a circus clown, but also to underscore the contrast between the two different worlds that he and YoYo are native to. The encounter in Paris forces the audience to adjust their expectations as to how the driver will treat his passenger, as we are given very little to go off of with him--for instance, what happened that he needed that bandage? Moments where we suspect he may try to take advantage of the woman play on our own prejudices by design, but also require we put ourselves in his shoes and empathize with him. In my humble opinion, Roberto Benigni positively steals the comedy gold medal by delivering such a blistering display of raw energy and humor that it's impossible to keep up, which makes the unfortunate fate of the priest--who Gino keeps referring to as a bishop--a darkly funny nugget of absurdity in an otherwise very natural film. Conversely, Mika's own story, which is the tonal opposite to Gino's, is suitable for the Finnish city covered in snow and slush, the eventual breaking of dawn at the end of night, a promise for a better day. All five episodes are filled with shots from the street showing the cab passing by, as though it were also supplementing as a kind of travelogue, showing the audience real locales, not just the kinds which would be favored by tourists. The effect of this multicultural portrayal of people in very similar situations across the world is a message saying that no matter our nations or our languages, we are all not so different, and share familiar problems, finding that talking it out makes the journey go all the smoother.
Recommended for: Fans of a vignette film comprising similar scenarios across the globe. If Night on Earth were like a pie, the episodes would each be five little perfect slices of life.
What makes Jim Jarmusch's Night on Earth fascinating as a vignette film is how although each scene is about a cab ride, each is also different enough to give the scenes unique character and personality. In fact, each scene feels rooted in a tonal style suited to the locale in which it's set, capturing cultural idiosyncrasies and regional traits perfectly. The scenes begin in Los Angeles and migrate eastbound to Helsinki, as if the movie were running opposite with the sun, invariably colliding with it. After each scene, the five clocks displaying the time rewind, like actors in a play returning to starting positions. The scenes in Los Angeles and New York feel fairly grounded in realism, or at least appear that way to me as an American, to be fair. The scenes in Europe carry a bit of romanticism or dramatics to them, but are no less interesting as a result. The scenes in America also play on certain American expectations for the residents of these cities; as mentioned, Victoria is surprised by Corky's dismissal of her offer to be a movie star. Helmut is the quintessential New York immigrant cabbie, struggling to make it in the Big Apple, but pursuing a path that seems almost cliche, as though its the job he feels he's expected to do when he comes to the United States. Helmut is actually overly accommodating and good-natured, in part due to his past as a circus clown, but also to underscore the contrast between the two different worlds that he and YoYo are native to. The encounter in Paris forces the audience to adjust their expectations as to how the driver will treat his passenger, as we are given very little to go off of with him--for instance, what happened that he needed that bandage? Moments where we suspect he may try to take advantage of the woman play on our own prejudices by design, but also require we put ourselves in his shoes and empathize with him. In my humble opinion, Roberto Benigni positively steals the comedy gold medal by delivering such a blistering display of raw energy and humor that it's impossible to keep up, which makes the unfortunate fate of the priest--who Gino keeps referring to as a bishop--a darkly funny nugget of absurdity in an otherwise very natural film. Conversely, Mika's own story, which is the tonal opposite to Gino's, is suitable for the Finnish city covered in snow and slush, the eventual breaking of dawn at the end of night, a promise for a better day. All five episodes are filled with shots from the street showing the cab passing by, as though it were also supplementing as a kind of travelogue, showing the audience real locales, not just the kinds which would be favored by tourists. The effect of this multicultural portrayal of people in very similar situations across the world is a message saying that no matter our nations or our languages, we are all not so different, and share familiar problems, finding that talking it out makes the journey go all the smoother.
Recommended for: Fans of a vignette film comprising similar scenarios across the globe. If Night on Earth were like a pie, the episodes would each be five little perfect slices of life.