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Sep 15, 2017Nursebob rated this title 4.5 out of 5 stars
Jim Jarmusch is not among my favourite directors but this long languorous daydream, laced with melancholy and passion, is one of the hippest arthouse vampire flicks I’ve seen in some time. Those expecting the action-packed bloodbath of "From Dusk Till Dawn" or the screeching fiends of "30 Days of Night" will be sorely disappointed for Jarmusch is not out to make another monster movie. His undead are among the most literate, highly refined intelligentsia to ever walk the Earth—Adam (Tom Hiddleston) has rubbed shoulders with the likes of Lord Byron and Mary Wollstonecraft; Eve (Tilda Swinton) can read several languages at a time; Marlowe (John Hurt) is still writing even though his physical strength is waning—and all three have an uncanny affinity for flora and fauna, rattling off binomial nomenclature in flawless Latin. Fangs make a cursory appearance, blood is acquired from a lab rather than a jugular, and ghoulish behaviour is limited to a few brief yet significant scenes. As with all his productions Jarmusch likes to play with names (Eve books a night flight as “Daisy Buchanan” Adam visits the blood bank as “Dr. Faustus”) and he underlies it all with a vein of humour that runs deep and dry—pun intended. Swinton and Hiddleston are a perfect match as the eternal lovers, Hurt is a winning combination of piercing intellectual and crusty old man, and the late Anton Yelchin shows his budding talent as Adam’s longhaired metalhead gofer. A story of immortals dealing with the terrifying prospect of their own immortality told with visual flair and a great deal of dramatic restraint.