“Father Mother Sister Brother” Explores the Mysteries of Family Life

This is what happens when “The dead don't die“dies. A blend of comedy, sci-fi, horror and apocalyptic fury set against a backdrop of brazen brutality, Jim Jarmusch's brilliant 2019 film is the kind of late masterpiece that the longtime director unleashes from time to time when the stars line up. In its unfettered inspiration, it is also the kind of special project that highlights the tragedy of other directors whose careers were cut short. (Where's Elaine May's Later Masterpiece?) But what happens when such a bold film flops both critically and commercially, as Jarmusch's film unfortunately did? His answer is evident in his new film Father, Mother, Sister, Brother: Facing dumb reviewers and an indifferent audience, he circled the train cars and regrouped.

This emphasis on the inner circle—the family—sets “Father, Mother, Sister, Brother” apart from its impressive predecessor. The Dead Don't Die unfolded almost entirely in public, with the characters hardly ever showing up at home. Father, Mother, Sister, Brother, as the title suggests, is a family film that deals with private life and is filmed primarily in the characters' homes, although “home” is defined here not as a place where one lives, but as a place to which one must return. The film is episodic, consisting of three stories, the characters of which do not intersect, but these three parts are ingeniously united both by vivid repetitions in the script and by Jarmusch’s virtual work of visual compositions.

The episodes – “Father”, “Mother” and “Brother-Sister” – take place respectively in New Jersey, Dublin and Paris, all in the present day. “The Father” finds a pair of siblings, Emily (Mayim Bialik) and Jeff (Adam Driver), in a late-model SUV driving to the remote country home of their unnamed father (Tom Waits), who is widowed. His sister and brother are polite, upper-middle-class people who reluctantly visit him; They are outraged by his incorrigible irresponsibility – he has never worked, has no social security and is trying to extort money from them. During their visit, the conversation mostly revolves around practical matters: Dad offers glasses of water (his pump works because Jeff, who was promoted at work, paid to have it fixed). Jeff checks his old corded landline phone for a dial tone. Emily looks at the super-powerful books on her dad's shelf (Osip Mandelstam, Noam Chomsky, Wilhelm Reich), but there is little talk about them. She notices their father's impressive watch – a fake Rolex, he says, although he suspects it is genuine. The conversation moves from furniture to food and health, to fuel prices and the view from the window.

The silence among them, although difficult, can hardly compare with the frozen silence that burdens the gathering of Dubliners in the second part of “Mother”. In this family, money is no barrier for the older generation: the mother (Charlotte Rampling), a best-selling author, lives in a large house in cozy luxury. She's waiting for her two daughters—the decent, no-nonsense Timothea (Cate Blanchett) named Tim and the glamorous bohemian Lilith (Vicky Krieps)—for afternoon tea on their annual visit. The sisters arrive separately, by car: Timothea drives a car that breaks down on the way, and Lilith is driven by a friend (Sarah Greene), but she insists on sitting in the back seat so she can pretend for her mother's sake that she can afford an Uber. Over tea, Tim says little about her life, mentioning only a small promotion, while Lilith spews out elaborate fiction about her wealth and success; their mother, meanwhile, refuses to talk about her work at all.

The parallels grow stronger as both families talk about water, point out Rolexes, focus on cars, use the term “Nowheresville”, refer to the catchphrase “Bob is your uncle” and look through old photographs. These elements are then repeated in the third episode, “Sister Brother”, which follows a pair of twins, Skye (Indya Moore) and Billy (Luka Sabbat), who reunite in Paris. This time, however, the parents are beloved characters who recently died in a plane crash, and Jarmusch develops the episode with content and style that accurately reflect these differences. Skye and Billy, native New Yorkers who were raised in Paris by their American expat parents, drive around the city in their parents' antique sky-blue Volvo and stop at a café for coffee before heading to the family apartment. Unlike the siblings' previous visits, the twins' return – to an empty house – is keenly sentimental as they discuss family photos with fond memories and receive an encouraging visit from the concierge, played by the great Francoise Lebrunwhich fills several lines with life's emotions. For the most part, Father, Mother, Sister, Brother is a serious, scripted film whose ideas emerge primarily in scenes of extended dialogue staged functionally, with little visual identity. But in the third section, the motifs that were repeated, albeit modestly, in the previous two now burst forth, dominating the action, and in the process casting the previous stories in their retrospective light.

Jarmusch had long worked with many of the most accomplished and original actors of the time. Though he makes low-budget independent films (even, apparently, The Dead Don't Die) and his low-key style relies on subdued dramatic performances, his filmography is nonetheless as stellar as that of any Oscar winner or blockbuster impresario. This is because he does not limit his actors, but exalts them in a way that other directors do not: his restrained approach does not suppress feeling, but rather enhances the detail and nuance of expression, revealing a refined and expanded emotional range.

In the first two chapters of “Father, Mother, Sister, Brother,” the characters are precise and sketchy, trying to maintain at least some kind of connection. They seem limited, faded, and Jarmusch films them, if not entirely impersonal, then at least uneventful. These first two parts of the film are especially scripted because the characters are scripted. Apparently, Emily, Jeff, Tim and Lilith were raised according to the script, their family relationships became formal, burdened with parent-imposed restrictions and expectations. In all three episodes, the parents are lingering mysteries to their children, but only in the first two are the mysteries toxic. Skye and Billy's ancestors, on the other hand, turned out to be free-spirited, independent people who simply lost sight of much of their complex, itinerant history. Billy and Skye, respectively, display a laid-back, down-to-earth ease that is reflected in the relaxed and heartfelt performances of Moore and Coven.