Weirdly enough, when I was 14 this was one of my favourite movies- a slow, sentimental indie drama heavy on character and light on incident, Wenders by way of Jarmusch. Wandering German hausfrau Marianne Sagebrecht ditches her husband in the Nevada desert and walks to the nearest motel, the eponymous rundown gas station miles from anywhere. Here she interacts with the poor, mostly black inhabitants and owners, everyone learns something and there’s a fair amount of hugging.
But it’s better than such a brief synopsis sounds- Sagebrecht is extraordinary, quiet and watchful but strangely loveable, perfectly contrasted by CCH Pounder crawling the walls and chewing the scenery as the irascible Brenda. And there’s an unexpectedly twinkly performance from Jack Palance as the local artist-in-residence, a Hollywood cowboy in shimmering silk shirts. Best of all is Bernd Heinl’s flawless photography. Vivid and magical, the desert has rarely looked so tranquil and utopian: a strong case could be made for this as one of the most memorable looking films of the decade. The last act is trite and thinly plotted (and there’s a song-and-dance sequence to make the toes curl), but up to that point the film barely puts a foot wrong.
by Tom Huddleston | Source: DVD
17 Sep 2007 12:54 PM | Submit Comment
