REALLY STUNNED! WHAT A MASTERPIECE !

THE LIMITS OF CONTROL in my subjective perception is a powerful manifesto of creativity and imagination againts aggressive, bourgeoi common sense. Two hostile worlds, one of which is eager to take control over the other. This is what this fillm is about for me.
The impenetrable Professional in fact is nothing but passionate,
a volcano and so much is happening in his world. The way he
detects real art, the way he has his two separate coffes,
the way he gets rellays from other talented people, the way he
is watching a damned Big-Brother helicopter, the way he denies cheap cliches, the way he uses his main instrument: imagination, to show the limits of control that can be enforced on him by money-makers. His limit of control is death. Both ways.
Life is nothing - sounds so better in Spanish! La vida es nada.
Does it matter what fills this nothingness? It does, according to the secret club of talented, imaginative people: reflections, illusions, films that are more real than life which is boring and
trivial. Wasn't Tilder Swinton quoting me? Yes, that is me,
living THE DEADMAN more intensively than reality, confusing
the film with my own visions. Wasn't she quoting the scene from
STALKER by Andrei Tarkovsky, a room filled with sand and a
flying bird touching it with its wing?
Oh this sarcasm!!! This tarantinoesque girl with her unbelievable intonations in: "No guns? No portables? No sex?"
I laughed my head off enjoying this poisonous quintessense of commercialism.
There is a temptation to call this film a symphony for its polyphonia, beauty, great number of artistic instruments used...
Blues would not do either for it is much more than that...
No adequate words come, for it is perfection in itself, something
higher which symphonies would rather be compared with.
Days pass and I'm still spell-bound with the rythm, movement, exquisite shades, unbelievable faces, heavenly sounds and the unbreacable logic and grandeur of the statement.
Oh, how I'd like to express my gratitude to the great artist Jim Jarmusch! My vocabulary is not adequate, I live so far away,
in Moscow, I'm nothing but a Russian admirer.
As if I've got a square of paper in a match-box and swallowed it, washing it down with coffe...