The blog has been relatively quiet lately; sorry for that. With a famly vacation and various summertime activities, it's been hard to break off the time to write up my impressions of the movies I've seen.
That said, something's better than nothing, so here's a quick jot about Jim Jarmusch's BROKEN FLOWERS:
I'd like to take a moment to celebrate one sequence from the movie.
When Murray visits old flame Sharon Stone, he finds himself in the middle of a Nabokov novel. Thing is, he realizes it; but neither Stone nor her eminently available daughter (aptly named Lolita) are in on the joke. Murray's deadpan delivery acts as the perfect counterpoint to the ridiculousness of his situation, and the whole affair is entirely successful.
Much like the rest of the film.
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