Mystery Train lives in a whole different universe from movies like Crash and Babel. Those movies' use of intersecting narratives as a device is so calculated as to deflate any true suspense or engagement. Mystery Train preceded them both, and did it right all those years before. Dennis Lim's essay in the booklet agrees with me and the rest of the sane world on this point.
The Japanese rock tourists, the widow, the sister, the ex-girlfriend, the brother, the ex-boyfriend, the barber, the accomplice, and the hotel clerks all behave like human beings in something closely resembling the real world. To name all the actors would be tremendously boring, but I'll note a couple of things: Youki Kudoh has since done a lot of work, where she was basically unknown here, and many musician friends know this movie because Joe Strummer from The Clash is in it.
The city of Memphis is the slow-moving, decomposing beast covered in kudzu that these various organisms inhabit, for whatever length of time. The final product of this layover between various points of departure stands as one of the prime examples of what "independent cinema" really means, or rather, what it meant.
We've spent all the hard cash and borrowed debt that words like "indie" once had. Five years ago, when I started this column, I declared war on the word "quirky", which, until today, I wasn't aware that Jarmusch held in similar contempt. When you find yourself using that meme, ask "what am I really trying to say?" before cursing yourself with the connotations of one who calls the eclectic "quirky", or the emotionally complex "dark".
Today's Criterion Blu-ray/DVD release of Mystery Train filled a notable hole in my Jim Jarmusch viewing history. I was first introduced to him by Ghost Dog, which I found to be at once both beautifully spare and fresh. In my teens, it represented a freedom from convention that I yearned for in homogenized suburban Texas.
Throughout the rest of high school, college, and the years since, I've made my way through as much of his earlier stuff as I've been able. I'm going to hit the last two that I haven't seen (Permanent Vacation and Stranger Than Paradise) once I've finished off my series on Ozu (sometime in July). It's convenient that they're both bundled in Criterion's Paradise DVD release.
Since receiving my review copy, I've both watched the feature and listened to the Q&A With Jim (over an hour in length, he answers written-in questions) twice. I borrowed a friend's MGM DVD of Train to compare the transfers, and the previous edition is a joke. I couldn't disagree more with anyone who decries the few number of extra portions included. Anyone who thinks that a Criterion edition has to have a commentary track is either new to this game, doesn't know much, or both.
The mini-doc crash course on Memphis and retrospective look at the locations in the present day runs under 20 minutes, but is dense with critical detailing. An excerpt of I Put a Spell on Me, the 2001 doc on Screamin' Jay Hawkins. The reason they specifically pulled that bit was twofold: to contextualize the info that was relevant to this movie, but also (I'm speculating here) because the full license cost would have been more prohibitive. Behind-the-scenes snaps of unspecified origin (I may be misremembering that) and photos taken by on-set photographer Masayoshi Sukita complete our journey. This release is another sterling example of how in the age of multiple studio bankruptcies and fire sales, Criterion knows how to make a feast out of simple, spare ingredients. Not too much, not too little, but just right.
The hotel that serves as the intersection point for the three narrative threads no longer exists. It was demolished a year after the movie was made. In its place is now an outdoor music stage. Most (if not all) of the other locations have survived in almost identical condition, as if Memphis itself lives on an island outside of time.
I realize that Criterion now has all of Jarmusch's pre-1995 feature output, which is a goddamned great thing. On that note, I know there are more people than just me who would buy a box set of Dead Man, Year of the Horse, Ghost Dog: Way of the Samurai, Coffee & Cigarettes, Broken Flowers, and The Limits of Control. It would go on my top shelf, next to Ozu.
Mystery Train sets you back $30 on Blu-ray, but as a bonus, you might just see Elvis' ghost.