Down by Law

On the surface, the plot of Jim Jarmusch's Down by Law (1986) sounds like the set-up for a cheesy joke: a radio DJ, a pimp, and an Italian tourist are thrown into jail together. The punchline? They'll have to get along long enough to make good on their escape.

Zack (Tom Waits) is a radio DJ with a problem with authority, and he's just been shit-canned by both his latest boss and his latest girlfriend. Down and out on the streets of New Orleans and looking to make a quick buck, Zack accepts a less-than-kosher gig to drive a stolen car across the city and abandon it. Small-time pimp Jack (John Lurie) is just looking to recruit a new girl when he gets set up in a police sting. And Bob the Italian tourist (Roberto Benigni) has a gambling problem that gets him into some hot water at a poker house. When he kills a man in self-defense, it lands him in jail, sharing a set of bunks with the aforementioned Jack and Zack.

But prison is only part of their problem, as perpetual losers Jack and Zack grate upon each other and come to blows on a few occasions. When the disgustingly cheery and optimistic Bob is thrown in the mix, Jack and Zack turn their anger on him. Eventually, through a shared love of cigarettes and cards, the three come to an uneasy peace in their oddly quiet prison, although Bob's continuing struggle with the English language serves as an intermittent annoyance for Jack and Zack, and a source of black comedy gold for the audience.

Soon, Bob discovers a way to escape, and the three misfits are off into the deep and dark swamps of Louisianna, running for their lives and searching desperately for any sign of civilization.

In Down by Law, we are not presented with a particularly original story. Three strangers come together in a desperate situation and find a delicate peace to see them through some sort of escape/adventure. Yeah, seen it a thousand times. But what sets this film somewhat apart are Jarmusch's casting choices and cinematic approach.

For starters, two of the main leads are played by musicians. In fact, in addition to acting in the film, John Lurie supplies its score while Tom Waits supplies all of its songs. And the absurdity doesn't stop there. The third main part is filled by Roberto Benigni, whose first footsteps on American soil were en route to this film's set and whose grasp of the English language mirrors his character's. Such casting choices represent quite a gambit for a young filmmaker, but Jarmusch didn't have studio backing to contend with. Of course, Waits and Lurie weren't exactly strangers to cinema either. Waits had landed a few parts previously, most notably in S.E. Hinton's classics, Rumblefish and The Outsiders. And Lurie had previously acted under Jarmusch in Permanent Vacation and Stanger than Paradise.

Cinematically, Jarmusch chooses to continue with the black and white film he rode to such critical success in Stranger than Paradise. But where Paradise is grainy and gritty, Down by Law is stark, with deep blacks and a large pallette of grays. With the aid of this type of film, Jarmusch shows us clearly the dark heart of New Orleans in the 1980s. Traveling shots along downtown reveal a city that is unlike any other in America: a sultry and sumptuous warzone of curruption, crime, and a cacophony of music. Down by Law's pathetic down-and-outers Jack and Zack seem right at home in Jarmusch's New Orleans.

The score of the film is very sparse, and that's exactly how Jarmusch wants it. According to him, music should never hijack a film's visuals, and it isn't there to overwhelm the audience and tell them how to feel. The music is rounded out by the odd song by Waits as well as mumbled lyrics from his character Zack.

For the vast majority of this film, Waits, Lurie, and Benigni are the only actors on screen, and as such, their performances must carry the film. While dialogue delivered by other minor characters sometimes feels rushed and over-scripted, the sparse interactions of the main actors are very well done. Highlights include a chanted mantra of "I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream!," and Benigni's unscripted, self-referential "rabbit soliloquy."

For fans of independent cinema, Jim Jaramusch's Down by Law is a classic that should not be missed.

Plot & storyline: 6/10
Cinematography & effects: 9/10
Mood & music: 7/10
Performances: 9/10

The Reverend says: 7/10