Don Johnston (Bill Murray) sits listlessly on the couch, staring at a widescreen television while his life and the women in it just drift away.
When Broken Flowers opens, he is continuing this routine as Sherry (Julie Delpy), the latest in a long line of lovers, is packing her things for good. Don makes a final plea for her to stay - to no avail - and then goes back to the couch. Don wants a glass of wine, but the bottle is out of reach. It can wait until tomorrow.
Life goes on as usual for Don until one day a mysterious pink envelope arrives in the mail. It is an ex-lover and she has news for Don: He has a son, and the boy is looking for him. Don gets off the couch.
Bill Murray not only is perfectly suited for director Jim Jarmusch's charming, if slight, new film, but it is obvious that Jarmusch had Murray in mind while writing his minimalist screenplay. Like many recent Murray films, Flowers profits from the actor's dry brand of comedy and hound-dog stare.
Flowers is remarkable in its simplicity, which takes some getting used to in the first 20 minutes. After Don sets off on the road to visit the four prospective mothers of his long-lost child, though, Flowers hits a steady groove. Aided by a hip and repetitive soundtrack, Don meets his past lover, tiptoes around asking if she has had children and then moves on.
This is when the women of Flowers shine; Sharon Stone, Frances Conroy, Jessica Lange and Tilda Swinton all give brief but stunning performances as Don's ex-lovers. Jarmusch creates eclectic little vignettes with Don's visit to each woman, keeping the ambiguity of their past relationship but somehow communicating the nature of its demise through a series of precise sidelong glances and gestures. The revelatory moments in each of Don's journeys involve no words at all.
Flowers is so odd and charming that I'm willing to forgive the fact that it suffers in the same way that it sets itself apart from other movies: though Bill Murray is a pro at playing the jaded loner, he plays it too often lately and I wonder if it might be time for a change.
If Broken Flowers didn't have Jarmusch's placid and intriguing touch, this might be the straw to break the cinematic camel's back. But because I remember the dizzying effect of the film's brilliant and shockingly ambiguous conclusion, I'm saving my negative review for the next one.
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Matt Burns
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