Jim Jarmusch’s films are renowned for their quiet blend of satirical humor and touching melancholy, and that combination has never been clearer than in Father Mother Sister Brother. This charming vignette of family stories paints three separate paintings of love, loss, and reconciliation, with an impressive ensemble cast to bring each quirky character to life.
But unfortunately, Father Mother Sister Brother doesn’t always make the most of its unique concept, often coming across as three stories that have been forced together instead of one cohesive whole. There are strong elements of each chapter – including a hilariously ᴅᴇᴀᴅpan performance from Adam Driver – but the film as a whole feels very dragged-out and without direction at points.
While the first two chapters in Jarmusch’s latest feature are driven heavily by their offbeat comedy, the film ultimately crescendos into a very moving, reflective piece about the value of family and our ill-fated tendency to take our loved ones for granted while they’re still with us.
Father Mother Sister Brother Leans Heavily On Jarmusch’s Witty Dialogue
If there’s one thing that can’t be criticized about Father Mother Sister Brother, it’s the film’s unwavering sense of humor. Each of these chapters is filled with brilliant one-liners and running gags that will have you laughing from start to finish; it’s a patient film, and slow-paced at times, but this methodical storytelling just makes those moments of levity even more entertaining.
Adam Driver and Cate Blanchett are the clear standouts of Father Mother Sister Brother’s cast, delivering two humble, transformative performances that are very different from their typical movie star personas. Driver commands the first chapter as the newly-divorced son who can’t say no to his father, while Blanchet picks up the baton as an upтιԍнт daughter who doesn’t know how to connect with her mother.
[The film] relies on the audience naturally relating to the story rather than actively trying to make them laugh, and that’s a very refreshing approach to comedy, even if it’s sometimes a little hollow.
Jarmusch’s dialogue is simple and effective; there are no complex jokes or self-indulgent references, but just a lingering atmosphere of awkwardness that anyone will recognize from the kinds of drawn-out family encounters that Father Mother Sister Brother depicts. It relies on the audience naturally relating to the story rather than actively trying to make them laugh, and that’s a very refreshing approach to comedy, even if it’s sometimes a little hollow.
Father Mother Sister Brother Struggles To Justify Its Three-Act Story
The overwhelming difficulty with Father Mother Sister Brother is that it’s a story of three parts, and each of the chapters is completely distinct. They’re each set in a completely different corner of the world, and each member of the cast only appears in a single story. The only thing connecting them is their shared themes of family, responsibility, and growing up.
The first chapter of Father Mother Sister Brother is really effective. It follows two grown siblings who visit their father at his isolated lodge in the Pacific Northwest, but who soon realize that he may not be the poor, broken soul that they expected him to be. This is Jarmusch at his best, but as soon as the second chapter starts, the film drastically loses its momentum.
It soon becomes clear that Jarmusch’s second story is essentially an extension of his first, riffing off the same ideas and merely changing the setting. Here, Cate Blanchett and Vicky Krieps are sisters who visit their distant mother for a spot of afternoon tea; it’s a very similar concept, and Jarmusch’s commentary on the small fractures that appear within family dynamics as they move into adulthood is identical.
Introducing two entirely new characters almost an hour into the film, and instantly expecting the audience to relate to them, is a tough task that I’m not convinced Jarmusch quite pulls off.
Father Mother Sister Brother admittedly does shake things up quite considerably with the third act, taking a less comedic approach to a story about two twins who’ve recently lost their parents in a plane crash, but this tonal whiplash just ended up taking me out of the film even further.
Introducing two entirely new characters almost an hour into the film, and instantly expecting the audience to relate to them, is a tough task that I’m not convinced Jarmusch quite pulls off. There’s a real thematic depth to each chapter, and the stories are relatable enough to never be boring, but Jarmusch’s insistence on writing three separate narratives about the same concept is a major misstep.
