Down By Law (1986)
A Jarmusch film is only as good as the weirdos that inhabit it, and Down By Law (1986) has a weirdo for everyone. Like most of Jarmusch’s films, the story is bare and secondary to the characters. Three losers, Zack, Jack, and Bob, all find themselves locked in a jail cell together after a series of unfortunate events. At first, they are at each other’s throats, but after bonding over their troubles (and an impromptu dance number to the tune of “Ice Scream, You Scream) they devise a plan to escape their concrete cage and traverse the Louisiana swamps to freedom.
As with Jarmusch’s previous work, Stranger Than Paradise (1984), this story is secondary to a string of moments these characters share together. Whereas I found this method of storytelling exhausting in Paradise, I believe that this approach works wonders for Down By Law, simply because Jarmusch doubles down on the eccentricity of his characters and the cinematic backdrops he puts them against. There is something so oddly loveable about the way these characters act; they have a specific casualness to them, retaining the improv-like delivery of these carefully crafted lines that make this simple tale of escape into this mumblecore fairy tale of weirdos trying to find their way in a world that doesn’t want them.
John Lurie, Tom Waits, and Roberto Benigni play Jack, Zack, and Bob, respectively, and they each bring an interesting dynamic that makes any moment they share the screen worthwhile. Benigni is the stand out performance here, bringing some much-needed optimism and cheerfulness to Jarmusch’s typically dower world, and he somehow makes a black and white film colorful. Lurie brings his typical baritone ennui to the film, and Waits is like the anti-Benigni, showcasing his southern gothic persona and bringing a layer of Waits-ness that frankly, every film needs. These characters are eccentric but subdued, reveling in what makes them unique but not in a way that is constantly reminding you of their assigned dynamics. Their interactions are a bulk of what makes the film appealing, so if you like them you’ll like this movie, and if you don’t it’ll feel like a colossal waste of time.
However, characters aside, Jarmusch expands on his cinematic eye for capturing the world around the story in such a way that opposers of his characters can still get some enjoyment with the film on mute. Jarmusch continues to utilize black and white in this film, but it feels less like a budgetary decision and more like a creative one. Whereas the camera movement in Stranger Than Paradise was more static and less involved, Down By Law utilizes the camera in a way that sort of feels like Kurosawa took a Xanax. Scenes in the prison are beautifully blocked, with each character having different spatial ownership of the frame, calling back to films like High and Low (1963) that use bodies of varying sizes and degrees as set design, turning them into eye lines. Once they move outside of the prison, the camera wades through the Louisiana swamplands like a canoe, following our characters as they find their way around marshlands and into civilization. It’s a welcome change of pace compared to his earlier works and makes his previously contained worlds feel larger.
Ultimately, Down By Law sees Jarmusch doubling down on a lot of his previously established cinematic tendencies. If you enjoyed the simpler, stripped-down approach of Stranger Than Paradise, you might find this more kinetic approach to not be your cup of tea. However, if like me, you found that approach a little too low energy, then Down By Law will be a step in the right direction.