Recovered Classic: Night on Earth


The second Jim Jarmusch film to feature as a Recovered Classic (the first was Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai), this movie was, by the director’s own admission, “hell” to make. The set-up, however, is decidedly simple. We share five taxi rides in five different cities which all take place at the same time on the same night in four different countries.

It all starts in LA, where Hollywood casting agent Gena Rowlands attempts to persuade cabbie Winona Ryder to become a movie star. We’re then whisked off to New York and experience Giancarlo Esposito’s comic frustrations as he endeavours to reach Brooklyn with the not-very-capable Armin Mueller-Stahl at the wheel. Next we visit Paris, where Isaach de Bankolé picks up blind beauty Beatrice Dahl, before moving on to Rome to witness Roberto Benigni’s hilarious in-car confession to a distinctly unwell back seat priest. Finally, in Helsinki, it’s a toss up as to whether the driver or his trio of drunken passengers has the most tragic story to tell.

It goes without saying that confining the “action” to the interior of a vehicle puts a huge emphasis on the director and his performers, but what makes Night on Earth so special is the fact that it works so well. It shouldn’t, because the technical limitations are horrendous, but while Jarmusch admits that filming in a car was “really, really, difficult,” the result is a film which proves surprisingly engrossing.

Written by the director himself in just eight days, each shaggy dog story manages to be coloured by the culture in which it is set, despite the fact that the camera only offers fleeting glimpses of the outside world. Because of this, the emphasis on character becomes even more crucial and there are some wonderful portrayals to behold, most notably by Benigni, whose graphic description of his highly dubious sexual past triggers an unexpected reaction from the man of the cloth in the back seat.
Esposito’s culture clash with Mueller-Stahl is also a highlight. Having taken the wheel himself due to his German driver’s questionable driving ability, the two proceed to disagree over who has the most ridiculous name (Helmut or Yo-Yo) before Rosie Perez also clambers in to add to the mayhem.

So there’s plenty to enjoy, with much of the film’s magic stemming from the viewer sharing the community of the night, a mysterious world which has been effectively portrayed in numerous movies.

But here, Jarmusch concentrates on his characters and their dialogue, between them they have to carry the movie because there’s nothing else going on around the edges. So we become unavoidably drawn into the conversations, which ripple with honesty and frankness (not least during the Paris section) because it’s at night when people tend to become more open and expose their vulnerabilities.
Cartwheeling between black comedy, human tragedy and personal enlightenment, the film’s easy pace may be too relaxed for some, but Jarmusch maintains a steady rhythm and he has an ability to evoke a moody, elegiac atmosphere which at times can prove hypnotic.

In this particular case, it pays off handsomely.

David Lichtneker

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