The biggest thing you need to know about Paterson, the latest from writer/director Jim Jarmusch, is that absolutely nothing of consequence happens in the movie. For that reason, many people will hate it or not even give it a shot, which is their prerogative.
But for those willing to give in to its seemingly banal rhythms, it is a rich character study in a film era that rarely allows such meditation. Adam Driver plays Paterson, a bus driver who happens to live in Paterson, New Jersey, who has a penchant for writing poetry. He lives with his girlfriend, Laura (Golshifteh Farahani), an aspiring country music singer with an affinity for black and white designs, baking cupcakes, and her ornery English bulldog, Marvin.
Jarmusch takes us through a week in their thoroughly ordinary lives, one in which Paterson rises early each morning to drive his route, writes new poetry verses, eavesdrops on his passengers, and ends each day by going to his neighborhood bar to enjoy a beer and talk with the bartender, Doc (Barry Shabaka Henley). Laura spends her days painting almost everything in their small apartment, doting on Paterson when he returns home, and gently pining for a bigger life.
At first, the lack of any significant plot developments is strange. But each passing day is shown to be just a little different than the one before it, and the film soon becomes pleasurable in an almost ineffable way. We get to know Paterson, Laura, Marvin, and other characters in such a pure and complete manner that they feel like good friends by the end of the film.
Also, what might seem like repetitive elements, including Paterson’s poetry, Laura’s seemingly endless black-and-white design variations, and the appearance of multiple sets of twins, are instead opportunities to dig deeper into the psyches and personalities of the main characters. They may not actually do anything, but they have a tremendous amount going on in their internal lives.
You could compare the film to poetry itself. Paterson’s verses are oddly matter-of-fact at times, almost as if he’s just writing down what he’s observing. But both the film and his poetry gain depth as the story goes along, to the point that you could almost convince yourself that his prose is as good as that of his hero, Paterson native William Carlos Williams.
Driver, like his character, seems to do nothing to make the role special, and yet he’s utterly compelling in it. Whether it’s his somewhat un-cinematic face, his subtle reactions, or his calm but confident demeanor, he is in control the entire film. Farahani complements him well with her bright and effortless personality.
Paterson is a film that will sneak up on you with its impact. It is graceful and quiet, but its characters will stay with you longer than most other movies.
Adam Driver in Paterson.
Photo by Mary Cybulski/Amazon Studios & Bleecker Street
Only in Austin does recording in a tin can create excellent sound. Specifically, this "tin can" is a 1955 Spartan Imperial Mansion trailer, a spacious mobile home converted into a relatively cramped studio. But the unconventional setup is no match for producer and engineer James Westley Essary.
Essary and his videographer brother, Brantley, have been using the space to build up their inner circle of musicians, capturing intimate performances in professional recordings available on YouTube. Live From The Tin Can premiered its second season on April 15, 2024, and is looking forward to a long string of diverse performances to come. Right now listeners can enjoy Ron Gallo, David Ramirez, Vondré, John Calvin Abney, Angel White, and more on the YouTube channel.
First up this season was Worn-Tin (an amazing coincidence of a name), performing "Hard Ease," "Bitter," and "Kid Changed," a pleasantly lackadaisical series of alt-rock romps, somehow squeezing in two drum sets. Worn-Tin, like many other artists this season on the YouTube series, performed live at South by Southwest in March. The festival, along with the concurrent Luck Reunion, brought a wealth of artists to the Live Music Capital, so the Tin Can crew took advantage of the easy scheduling.
"South By's website is actually a great way to find out who was coming into town," says Brantley. "So we started thinking about things like, what is what is their sound like? What is their performance like, and will that translate into our space? ... [We] just started contacting managers: 'Hey, do you have a free morning, free afternoon? Want to come by?' The sessions only take about a couple of hours."
Although the Essarys are hoping to get more national acts into the Tin Can to boost views, their hope is that over time they can narrow their focus back to local artists. (The series premiere featured Austin band Kelly Doyle.) Beyond the view counts, these recordings are mutually beneficial; Artists don't just get exposure, but lasting high-quality recordings for free, and the brothers get to build a portfolio. Westley, who just goes by his second name in conversation, appreciates the stylistic challenge.
Producer and engineer James Westley Essary does the auditory impossible.Photo courtesy of Live From The Tin Can
"I get to create a little calling card, [and] they get a way to push their new record when they're rolling through town and on tour," says Westley. "As you put out records you get pigeonholed ... I want to make a punk record, and I want to make a metal record. I want to make a country record. So it allows me to be able to dabble in whatever I want — whatever we book in the studio."
Making these connections was Westley's main goal in creating the series during the pandemic. It'd been a loose idea at the producer's prior studio, with occasional shoots for social media. As we all remember, 2019 was not famous for its sense of urgency. But when the studio was "sold out from under" Westley in October, he got tired of hopping from one rental to another.
He bought the trailer in December 2019 and spent the following year working on it. The end of his work coincided with Brantley's desire to move back to Austin from Seattle, so the returning brother provided the property to park the trailer on. The rest was good, old-fashioned pandemic restlessness.
The Tin Can in all its metallic glory.Photo courtesy of Live From The Tin Can
"When you're on the road all the time, you're meeting new bands every day, because you have a different opener or something," says Westley. "And I was like, 'How can I bring that to me?' It's a lot of fun when there's not really any money involved. You're not dedicating a ton of time, necessarily, to it. Bands come here, they have a really great time, [and] it's really nice to be able to host them."
Of course, recording in such a small space has its challenges. Most of the solution was in arranging; not the music, but the musicians. Placing everyone just right minimizes the bleed of certain instruments into other microphones, and as long as the singer stays relatively still, the drums — the biggest culprit — mostly keep their sound to themselves.
Some issues are also fixed with slightly quieter playing, unintentionally creating a sort of sonic brand for the series. It's not all bedroom pop, but the combination of a cozy recording environment and slightly restrained volume makes for some homey performances. This also works nicely for Westley — isn't that happening a lot? — who says he usually prefers listening at home to watching in a crowd.
Still, live recordings add a certain spice to the music. Many music fans will attribute it to the organic mystery of musicians clicking together, but Westley thinks there's something else at play. There's no substitute for practice, and by the time musicians are making live recordings, they've probably played the song live dozens or even hundreds of times. That allows for improvements on the original ideas — sometimes ones that originated in the studio at the time of the first recording.
Ron Gallo squeezes into the Tin Can.Still from Live From The Tin Can
It's also an easy way to make additional income without writing more, he says. Brantley points out that live music has always been at the core of the business.
"Live music has been at the top for forever," says Brantley. "Now we've got artists selling out huge arenas. They're competing with the NFL; They're not competing with movies or TV as much anymore. ... So I love the opportunity to not just record live music, but also film it. You're getting a full experience of both the really compelling live recording [and] even more compelling video to watch them in their element — really playing it live rather than just in a box in the studio."
The next frontier for the Tin Can crew will be hosting live shows onsite. Westley will be in the trailer recording while the band plays outside, and eventually Brantley might start capturing video, too. Also down the pipeline are audio-only live recordings, so listeners can enjoy the tunes without relying on YouTube.
One episode featuring NOBRO from Montreal, Quebec, is out now, with more to come. Next up is Evangeline from Los Angeles. Follow along with Live From The Tin Can ("Like and subscribe," says Brantley with a smile) on YouTube.