(this review is about Paterson (2016), Directed by Jim Jarmusch)
White t-shirt, blue shirt, Paterson wakes up, drives his urban bus, comes home, dines with his Persian muse, takes the dog for a walk and stops off for a beer at his neighborhood bar. Paterson raison d’être is his solitary poetry, written on his secret blank notebook. Written by him, for him, with no grandeur aspiration.
But Laura, Paterson’s “better half”, isn’t real. She is an illusion, a product of Paterson’s imagination. Laura never interacts with the outside world, she only appears inside the house. Even in the house, at the bedside table, there are photos of Paterson in a military uniform, his parents (maybe?) and the dog. Laura isn’t there. When Paterson says to Doc, the local bar owner, that Laura will sell cupcakes at the farmer’s market and that he should go there, Doc looks surprised and shocked, saying that he can’t because he has the chess tournament. He was clearly perturbed, does he know that Paterson lives inside his mind, in a schizophrenic reality, where Laura is a product of his imagination? When they go to the cinema, the only moment the two are together outside the house, Paterson stares at the couples in the cinema, with their hands joined, and he looks mystified and confused. The main actress of the movie they are seeing is almost equal to Laura. He says that when they are coming home: “You look like her. You guys could be twins.” She is equal because that’s what Paterson sees, his mind projects Laura everywhere.
She is the poet’s Muse. Almost all of Paterson poesy is about her and their daily life. He is a poet trapped in the daily austere routine of conducting a bus, only interrupted by a midday sandwich. Instead, she paints, she plays guitar, she cooks, she even manages to sell cupcakes! She is beautiful and fully devoted to him. She is always encouraging him to publish his poetry: “You know that I know your poetry is really, really good.” She is always smiling and friendly even when he is gloomy and resigned. She is always there when he needs it, when he finishes writing his poems. She is perfect for him, because she is him.