Here is a film that is brimming with personality, symbolism, and rich characterization. Paterson is an incredibly relatable, down-to-Earth story—resonanting with me on a deep, personal level few films can. 2017 has been a turnaround year for my opinion on Adam Driver. I used to dislike the actor, but after delivering two highly memorable performances in two of my favorite 2017 films, he’s certainly gained my favor.
Paterson demands to be examined, to be analyzed and picked apart, which is exactly what I plan to do. Since the film details an entire week, this review will be split into sections detailing each day of said week, starting with Monday.
There will, understandably, be minor to MAJOR spoilers below (minor for the early days, major for the later) as I’m going into great detail about each day of the week.
MONDAY:
Paterson opens Monday morning in the bedroom of its two central characters—Laura (Golshifteh Farahani) and her husband Paterson (Adam Driver). The couple sleep facing each other, hands lightly touching. Paterson is the first to wake up, glancing at his wristwatch to see it’s around quarter past six. He puts on his watch and kisses his wife tenderly on the shoulder, prompting a now half-awake Laura to tell him about a “beautiful” dream where they had twins. She asks Paterson if he’d like twins, to which he replies yes, stating there would be one kid for each of them.
Paterson lives a routine life, working as a bus driver in Paterson, New Jersey. After waking up, he gets dressed, eats a bowl of cereal and walks his usual path to work. On the way there he happens to spot twins sitting on a bench. Before his day begins, Paterson writes poetry in what Laura calls his “secret notebook”. Paterson loves poetry, though he hardly speaks about it to anyone other than his wife—writing and/or mentally perfecting his current verse throughout the day.
After his coworker Donny (Rizwan Manji) gives the go-ahead to start the bus, Paterson begins his routine day driving people around the city. He picks up two boys discussing Hurricane Carter, a famous boxer convicted of murder who was born in Paterson. Paterson eavesdrops on the conversation, noticing the pair of shoes each boy is wearing. Time goes by as we see Paterson eating lunch on a bench close to the Paterson Great Falls. While eating, Paterson continues his poetry, envisioning his wife while writing.
Now why, you may be asking, are such minute details important to write about. There’s nothing amazing about the plot so far, it’s just a bunch of mundane events in the life of a fairly ordinary man. Yet that’s exactly the point, and at the risk of driving you away, I ask for your patience while I continue summarizing Paterson’s day (or you can scroll down to the end of Monday where I analyze what has transpired).
Paterson finishes his day and walks back home. He checks for mail before fixing his mailbox that has mysteriously been tilted since the morning. At home, Laura shows off some curtains she made and discusses her dream of owning her own cupcake business, which Paterson reacts to pleasantly. Their pet dog Marvin sits in Paterson’s living room chair, staring intensely at the man who sits on the couch instead. Laura asks if he enjoyed the lunch she made and queries if he got any writing done. Laura mentions how she wishes Paterson would do something about his “beautiful poems”, proclaiming they belong to be seen by the world. Paterson is flattered, if not a bit frightened, by Laura’s kind words, yet dismisses the idea.
Paterson takes Marvin out for their daily night walk with the bulldog assertively leading the way—pulling Paterson along for the ride. Paterson halts the walk to go into his local bar, much to Marvin’s annoyance as he’s left tied up outside. While inside, Paterson sees an old acquaintance whose twin brother is visiting from Philly. The bar’s owner Doc (Barry Shabaka Henley) is a friendly, slightly eccentric man who plays chess against himself and has a wall of fame of everyone famous from Paterson.
Monday sets up Paterson’s entire premise and ideology, though this only becomes apparent once the other days roll in. The first day tells us exactly what we need to know about its main couple. Paterson is a modest man leading a modest life. He is mild-mannered and appears to enjoy his routine lifestyle. Paterson’s lack of assertiveness is made clear by how his dog Marvin treats him—sitting in the head chair and asserting dominance on their walk.
There are two things Paterson truly loves in the world: poetry and his wife, who serves as a source of inspiration for the former. Laura, likewise, has immense love and affection for her husband. The key difference between the two, however, is Laura’s ambitious nature over Paterson’s comfort zone for their current situation. She discusses owning a cupcake business and encourages her husband to share his poems with the world rather than keeping them cooped up. Paterson does not dismiss his wife’s ideas, but it is apparent such big steps in change make him uncomfortable and nervous.
Paterson enjoys, or at least believes he does, being a spectator—observing and listening to other people’s lives, successes, and failures from within his own little bubble. Paterson is not a recluse, however, as seen with his effectively functioning marriage and warm interactions at his local bar. The theme of pairs is also set up on Monday—in particular, the continuous appearances and mentioning of twins.
TUESDAY:
Paterson’s daily routine continues as the day before, only with small deviations along the way. In the morning, Laura and Paterson are seen sleeping back to back. Paterson naturally wakes around the same time again, this time kissing Laura’s back. A half-awake Laura mumbles that she’s cold, causing Paterson to pull up the blankets as she tells about another dream where he was riding an elephant in ancient Persia. Paterson playfully questions if elephants lived in Persia, causing Laura to chuckle. Both softly refer to each other as “beautiful” during their conversation. They then share a loving kiss before Laura goes back to sleep and Paterson continues his day.
Paterson has a witty sense of dry humor. When Donny seems a little down, Paterson unwittingly asks if everything’s ok, causing Donny to humorously list a series of misfortunes occurring in his life (kid needs braces, car needs transmission job, wife wishes to go to Florida but he’s behind on his mortgage, etc.). When Donny returns the question, Paterson simply replies “I’m ok.” It’s a witty moment that also begins the film’s comparison of Paterson’s life to others.
On the bus, Paterson overhears two men discussing their bachelor lives, each bragging about how they almost got with an attractive woman—who was totally into them—yet couldn’t because of some last-minute excuse. It’s clear (to Paterson, the audience, and the two men) that both were not close to getting laid and the women were, most likely, not as interested in them as they claim. Yet both men back up each other’s façade, if anything to preserve their own ego (though I’m impressed they had the modesty to not lie and say they got laid), amusingly quieting up when a female passenger gives them a look after saying “these women are out of control.”
Paterson’s watch hands begin quickly spinning as time flies by, the scene briefly cutting to Laura designing curtains at the house. At home, Paterson once again fixes the tilted mailbox before going to the basement to work on his poetry. Laura comes down to check on him and brings Paterson up for an important discussion. Laura wants Paterson to promise he will go make copies of his poetry. Paterson is hesitant—playfully covering his eyes when Laura asks to look her in the eye—yet agrees he will do so over the weekend. Paterson’s silliness hides his general uncomfortableness with the request—more so, it becomes clearer he fears what others will think of his work, showing doubt to Laura’s claims that he’s a great poet.
Laura once again showcases her ambition with her next request, though she’s more hesitant to bring it up. Laura asks if they can buy a harlequin guitar for only a few hundred dollars—listing off the various benefits of learning and achieving her dream of becoming a great country singer. Laura is ambitious, yet her ambition is scattered all-around—from cooking to designing to playing the guitar. Paterson even humorously remarks on such by asking her “which dream is this?”, yet nonetheless supports her wife’s goal despite the expense.
Marvin continues his dominant attitude by jumping into the head chair just as Paterson arrives and barking when he and Laura kiss. The latter event causes Laura to jump from Paterson over to Marvin, affectionately talking to him in typical baby-dog speak much to Paterson’s humorous annoyance. Marvin displays a possessive nature towards Laura and treats Paterson like the house’s beta male. Likewise, Paterson isn’t too keen on Marvin. When walking Marvin, Paterson is called over by some hoodlums showing interest in Marvin and telling Paterson to be careful as such an expensive dog could be “jacked”. In a typical film, this may be when conflict is introduced, but Paterson continues its casual routine—ending the scene humorously with Paterson leaving Marvin outside the bar, halfheartedly telling the dog not to get dogjacked.
At the bar, Paterson and Doc discuss if celebrity Iggy Pop should go up on the wall of fame. Doc introduces Paterson to a regular named Marie (Chasten Harmon), who discuss Paterson’s peculiar name. Marie is pestered by her ex Everett (William Jackson Harper), whose zealous love for her is not reciprocated.
WEDNESDAY:
The day opens with Laura and Paterson asleep, cuddling each other. Paterson wakes up, grabs his watch, gives his sleeping wife a kiss, and goes to eat his bowl of cereal. The routine is altered slightly, however, when his wife makes a surprise appearance in the kitchen to give Paterson a kiss. He asks if she’s awake, which she responses no and heads back to sleep. Laura does not have to get out of bed—she could have stayed warm and snug—yet does anyway not to start her day, but because she wants to see her husband, to kiss him and say goodbye before he leaves.
The way Paterson handles its main couple’s relationship is so beautifully natural. The film continuously showcases these subtle, loving moments between Laura and Paterson long after the film establishes their passionate feelings. Take, for example, when they call each other beautiful in Tuesday’s opening scene. The words are extraneous to their conversation, yet it’s what loving couples do: complement each other daily for no other reason than to confirm their love and brighten each other’s day. These little moments are brilliantly placed throughout the film to effectively sell the spouses's equally passionate, realistic love. It reminds me heavily of my wife and I’s own relationship and routine, in a grounded way I’ve never seen done before. Paterson goes home (giving a painting Laura an eager greeting and Marvin a far less enthusiastic one) and tells his wife that he’s writing a poem for her—getting Laura excited to read it when it’s finished.
When walking Marvin, Paterson comes across a laundry mat where a man is working on a rap by himself. When the man notices Marvin intently watching, Paterson reveals himself (the man refers to Paterson as Marvin’s “human ball and chain”), apologizing for eavesdropping and praising the man’s work. The scene is the first of three similar, entirely fascinating encounters between Paterson and a stranger. The scene reveals Paterson’s admiration for the arts beyond poetry and for others's passion towards them. The two men are quite similar: passionate towards a hobby, working and improving upon it whenever they have time. Yet unlike Paterson, the man displays a more confident, open personality, with Marvin showcasing a notable interest towards him and resisting to leave when Paterson does. The men’s personalities are even represented by their preferred art style: whereas Paterson’s written wordplay allows him to remain quiet and undetected, the man’s vocal wordplay is open and requires assertive expressiveness.
At the bar, Paterson observes his surroundings—from the wall of fame to Doc flirting with one of the customers. The wall of fame serves an important piece in Paterson. It’s consistently shown each weekday, whether it be Paterson discussing the wall with Doc or simply looking at the people on it. The wall plays an important, symbolic role for the conflict within Paterson. The man fears change, he fears to lose his current comfortability and fears taking a risk that may lead to failure. Yet as Paterson stares at the wall of fame it’s apparent that, deep down, he would like to be on that wall. Laura all too well empathizes with her husband’s inner ambitions and the fears holding him back, pushing Paterson at a gradual pace—so as to not overwhelm him—to achieve such hidden desires.
THURSDAY:
As usual, Laura and Paterson find themselves in a new sleeping position, this time spooning each other. Laura notes how she loves Paterson’s faint smell of beer from the night before. Paterson sees twins on the bus as he overhears two college students discuss historical events that happened in Paterson. His watch once again flies by as it cuts to lunch, Paterson passionately writing about Laura, who the film cuts to currently working on clothing. Paterson once again asks Donny if he’s alright, who proceeds to list off his current problems. At the bar, Paterson witnesses an unintentionally humorous conflict between Doc and his wife, all the while Everett continues to pester Marie, who remarks she’d rather drop dead than get back together.
Paterson constantly showcases its characters’s problematic relationships—from Doc having trouble with his wife, to Everett consumed by his unrequited love for Marie, who hates her childhood friend’s obsessive behavior, to the two bachelor’s unsuccessful escapades, to Donny’s numerous issues involving his family. The only two characters who seemingly avoid such trouble are Laura and Paterson, who are both very much in love and without any major conflicts. Laura and Paterson do have problems, but they are small and typical to what the average American deals with on a daily basis—compared to the others characters’s larger, more dramatic problems. This is what makes Paterson so brilliantly subversive to Hollywood cinema—it’s focused on the average American citizen living a typical routine life with everyday good and bad moments. Paterson’s focus on the ordinary is what makes the film so extraordinary.
Parallels are another theme throughout Paterson. As with the rapper, Paterson shares much, if not more, in common with the girl. They’re both poets, have secret notebooks, and share a preference for non-rhyming stanzas. In a way, the girl is Paterson’s parallel—his twin version in the world. Yet unlike Paterson, though similar to the rapper, the young girl is far more confident in her abilities—calling herself a poet compared to Paterson’s sheepish admittance to liking poetry. The girl’s mom and sister finally appear, revealing the siblings to be twins. The girl leaves Paterson alone and unintentionally dejected by remarking how it’s awesome that a bus driver likes Emily Dickenson.
Yet while the focus is largely ordinary, it’s surrounding events can be notably unordinary, particularly the persistent appearance of twins in Paterson’s life. When walking back home from work, Paterson notices a young girl sitting alone writing in a notebook. Paterson asks the girl if she’s alright being alone, to which the girl replies that she’s waiting for her mom and sister in the building next door. By this point, Paterson’s genuinely kindhearted nature has been well-established (though the film will continue to emphasize such throughout its remaining runtime), so when he asks to sit with the girl until her mother comes back it’s clear there’s nothing nefarious about such request. The girl, not knowing what the viewers know, is a bit hesitant towards the request, but permits nonetheless (Paterson doublechecking to ensure his presence is not making the girl uneasy).
Similar to the laundry scene, Paterson’s discussion with the girl is as intriguing as it is insightful. The two initially discuss what vehicle types Paterson has driven before the girl asks if he’s interested in poetry. Paterson displays his reticence by saying he’s “kind of” interested in poetry, prompting the girl to reveal she’s a poet who writes her work in a “secret notebook”. The girl reads one of her poems—titled Water Falls (two words)—to Paterson, admitting it doesn’t really rhyme. Paterson brushes off the latter statement, saying he prefers poems that way, and calls her poem beautiful.
Parallels are another theme throughout Paterson. As with the rapper, Paterson shares much, if not more, in common with the girl. They’re both poets, have secret notebooks, and share a preference for non-rhyming stanzas. In a way, the girl is Paterson’s parallel—his twin version in the world. Yet unlike Paterson, though similar to the rapper, the young girl is far more confident in her abilities—calling herself a poet compared to Paterson’s sheepish admittance to liking poetry. The girl’s mom and sister finally appear, revealing the siblings to be twins. The girl leaves Paterson alone and unintentionally dejected by remarking how it’s awesome that a bus driver likes Emily Dickenson.
At home, Laura experiments with dinner, combining several of Paterson’s favorite foods to create a pie. Evident from his humorous expressions to lengthy gulps of water, Paterson does not enjoy the combination as much as his wife had hoped yet feigns enjoyment to please her. Laura brings up similarities between Paterson and other great poets (teasingly referring to his favorite poet William Carlos Williams as Carl William Carlos) in her constant efforts to build her husband’s confidence in his work. Paterson remarks about his meeting with the girl after Laura points out a picture of the Great Falls (his favorite place) she placed on the wall. Paterson’s wording, however, (“a girl I met”) creates some brief concern in Laura, before Paterson hastily elaborates by noting her age. The entire dinner scene is important in showcasing the couple’s little imperfections: Paterson pretending to enjoy Laura’s meal, Laura showing concern at Paterson meeting another woman, etc. It reveals their marriage isn’t perfect, as with any realistic couple. There’s no such thing as a faultless marriage, and while the film doesn’t dive into larger dramatic conflicts, it makes clear these two beings are still human—a loving couple, but a grounded one nonetheless.
FRIDAY:
The end of the weekdays brings about a shake-up in routine events. Paterson wakes up alone, realizing, after looking at his watch, that his internal clock when off later than usual. He goes to the kitchen and finds Laura baking cupcakes, who notes his sleeping in and how “somedays, something inside just doesn’t want to get up”. Optimistic as always, Laura discusses her excitement over Saturday’s Farmers’ Market—noting how if she’s successful in selling the cupcakes, she may be off to having a very successful business—and harlequin guitar being delivered today. Paterson is encouraging towards her confidence—though lightly jests at her excitement for the guitar—noting how he likes her cupcake designs.
When Paterson, once more, asks Donny if he’s alright, the man humorously declines to tell, stating; “you don’t even wanna know.” During his daily routine, Paterson’s bus suddenly breaks down due to an electrical failure. For the first time in the film, Paterson is removed from his comfortable position of listening bystander and forced into a position of leading the concerned and confused passengers. Despite his reluctance, Paterson does an effective job at commanding the situation—apologizing to the passengers, assuring another bus will pick them up shortly while reassuring a concerned old lady that the bus will not explode into a fireball, and making sure the school children stay within the group.
The scene cuts to Laura practicing her new guitar, as well as finally revealing Marvin to be the culprit behind the mysteriously tilting mailbox (that dastardly dog). Paterson returns home late due to the breakdown, stopping to give spare change to a homeless man. At home, Laura enthusiastically plays Paterson part of I’ve Been Working on the Railroad on her new guitar (Paterson stating he’s impressed). Laura asks Paterson about his day at work, noticing his late arrival and stressed out expression. Paterson tells about the bus's breakdown, to which Laura humorously reiterations the old lady’s concern that it could have exploded into a fireball. Laura and Paterson proceed to order a pizza for dinner, adding to Friday’s change of pace.
At the bar, Paterson tells Doc about the breakdown, with Doc repeating, though more jokingly than concerned, how it could have exploded “into a f@#%ing fireball!” causing both to laugh. Showcasing his considerate nature to his wife even when she’s not around, Paterson recommends Doc go to the Farmers’ Market for some great cupcakes—yet Doc declines, noting how he has a big chess tournament Saturday. Paterson, being Paterson, holds no grudge and wishes Doc luck at the tournament. Marie returns to the bar with Everett following close behind, who repeat the exact same opening line he did on Tuesday.
Yet following Friday’s deviations, Everett this time pulls a gun on Marie, scaring off most of the bar’s occupants save for Paterson, Marie, a few extras, and Doc—the latter appearing completely unfazed by the event. Everett turns the gun on himself before Paterson rushes in and takes Everett down, knocking the gun away. Doc praises Paterson before…shooting Everett in the head!? GASP! Do we finally have dramatic conflict in Paterson’s life!? Thankfully, no. Turns out the gun was nothing more than a harmless foam shooter, which Doc was well aware of—stating he should kick Everett’s ass for clearing out the bar. Everett leaves after a big, dramatic statement about love. Marie thanks a very much rattled Paterson—who did believe the gun was real, showcasing a genuine heroic side—with Doc joking how Everett might have shot himself to death with foam. They all laugh it off, though Paterson still appears shaken up by the event.
Friday showcases Paterson’s untapped potential as a participant rather than an observer. He successfully leads the bus passengers during a minor crisis and courageously dives in to stop a possible shooting. In the latter event, Paterson appears just as surprised as he is rattled by his action—unaware he had such capability within him. Paterson shows he has the ability to become more than what he's settled for, save for his amazing wife who continuously showcases her faith in his capabilities. He can become a great poet, yet holds himself back with insecurity and doubt.
SATURDAY:
The weekend opens with Laura waking Paterson up. Laura is clothed for once, though her seductive tone and positioning over Paterson suggests she’s thinking about taking them off soon. Paterson disrupts the mood, however, by mentioning the previous night’s incident—once again choosing a poor opening sentence by mentioning the gun without the foam aspect. Laura’s tone and expression (Farahani does a very effective job here) immediately switches to deep concern and embraces Paterson, praising his bravery and noting how she always knew that bar was dangerous. Paterson brushes it off (most likely realizing continuing the conversation may result in Laura suggesting not to go to the bar anymore) and shares a passionate kiss with her. In the kitchen, Marvin has moved to Paterson’s dinner chair with Laura treating the event as cute; “Who’s sitting in daddy’s chair!?” and Paterson clearly annoyed. Laura leaves for the Farmers’ Market—having Paterson promise to make copies of his notebook—while Paterson takes Marvin out for a day walk (who refuses to let Paterson sit at his favorite spot near the Great Falls).
Back at home, Paterson writes a heartfelt poem for his wife. The poem is simple and incredibly honest for a love letter, yet lays out Paterson’s deepest thoughts about Laura in a way that confirms what’s been suspected: Paterson is an imperfect man who immensely loves his wife;
Pumpkin
My little pumpkin,
I like to think about other girls sometimes,
but the truth is,
if you ever left me,
I’d tear my heart out
and never put it back.
There’ll never be anyone like you.
How embarrassing.
Laura happily returns, embracing Paterson while explaining how her cupcakes were a huge hit. To celebrate, the couple go the movies to see a classic horror film Island of Lost Souls. After the film, Paterson notes the similarities between Laura and the girl in the film, mentioning how they could be twins.
At home, they discover that Paterson had left his secret notebook upstairs and Marvin—who seems quite aware of what he’s done—ripped it to shreds. The events that follow are some of the most relatable reactions I’ve seen in cinema. It’s like looking at a parallel dimension of my wife and I if I had somehow lost all my film-related posts/data due to our cat or dog (more likely our cat). Paterson initially appears to be in a state of denial over such disaster. Laura, immediately realizing the horrors of such occurrence, goes through various reactions towards the event. She offers her deepest, genuine condolences, notes how he usually doesn’t leave his notebook lying around before quickly, most likely realizing hindsight won’t help here (possibly why she does remark how this is why he needed to make copies), moving on to mention how she’s going to punish Marvin (who, for the first time in the film, refers to him insultingly as a stupid dog) by making him sleep in the garage. Laura realizes her comforting is in vain as they cannot fix what has been done, solemnly looking at the ground as Paterson, who still appears very much in shock, silently walks away. Laura begins picking up the pieces as if in a vain attempt to see if she can put them back together.
SUNDAY:
The morning begins tense and somber. Paterson is sitting up on the bed staring at the wall (one can suspect he hasn’t slept at all). Laura is also awake, looking depressed and concerned about her husband’s state. Paterson is completely and understandably miserable, wandering around the house, somberly looking at a book by William Carlos Williams.
For the first time, Paterson openly expresses his contempt for Marvin straight to the dog’s face. Yet despite such disdain for the animal, Paterson allows the dog to come back in from the garage. Even at his most wrathful, Paterson still shows kindness to his enemy, though it possibly has to do with Laura’s affection for the animal. Laura, however, sends Marvin back to the garage, scolding the dog along the way. It’s a telling, unbelievably relatable scene for the pair; Paterson is unable to act cruelly towards something Laura loves (or anything for that matter), even when it destroyed his most prized object, while Laura continues punishing her beloved pet due to her genuine empathy towards Paterson’s pain.
Laura brainstorms ideas, any ideas, that can possibly help with the situation. She notes how there might be computers that can mend the pieces back together, offers to play a song on her guitar, and then offers to go out for awhile to leave Paterson alone. Paterson quickly and earnestly dismisses the latter idea—he holds no grudge against Laura for the incident and knows she’s doing everything to help—yet decides to take a walk to clear his head.
On his walk, Paterson crosses paths with Everett, who apologizes about the gun incident. The two now parallel each other, as they’ve both lost something beloved that they can never get back. Everett notices Paterson’s dejected mood and asks if he’s alright, to which Paterson says he’s fine. Everett—most likely not convinced—quotes how the sun still rises every morning and sets every evening and that there’s always another day. Paterson jokingly adds on “so far” before the two say their goodbyes and depart opposite ways on their paths of contemplation.
Paterson ends up quietly sitting at his favorite spot near the Great Falls. Paterson is walked upon, however, by a mysterious man from Japan (Masatoshi Nagase) who asks—opening with “Excuse me”—if he may sit next to Paterson. Paterson says yes, and the man sits down—pulling out a poetry book titled Paterson, written by William Carlos Williams. The man asks—continuing to open his questions with excuse me—if Paterson is from the area, knows about William Carlos Williams, and is a poet himself. True to his character throughout the film, Paterson confirms he’s from the area, plays down his admiration for William Carlos Williams, and denies—after a bit of hesitancy—that he’s a poet, saying he’s “just a bus driver”. The man and Paterson discuss poetry, ultimately pointing out how some of the most famous poets started out in different occupations. The man slyly remarks “ah-ha” when Paterson notes how William Carlos Williams was originally a doctor. The man confirms his love for poetry and shows Paterson a bag full of notebooks, giving one to Paterson as a gift. The man shakes Paterson’s hand, revealing two of his fingers to be strapped together, before leaving—turning around once more to say “Excuse me. Ah-ha.”
Even more than with the rapper and young girl, Paterson’s chance encounter with the mysterious man is utterly captivating and elegant. Every theme and moment of characterization for Paterson has been building up to this scene, the film’s climax, where pairs and parallels play heavily and Paterson reaches a critical moment in development. The man has most likely come to the Great Falls as it was a major source of inspiration for William Carlos Williams' epic poem Paterson. Paterson, likewise, writes some of his best poetry there and—whether subconsciously or not—is following in the steps of his hero. This plus a little testing lets the man recognize Paterson for who he really is inside despite his denial.
The man acts as a guide to Paterson’s inner conflict, helping him break out of his funk and resume writing poems in his new notebook. Paterson mentally recites his latest poem while silently walking back home through the city and past Doc’s bar, seen for the first time during the day. The film concludes on Monday morning with one final look at its main couple. Laura and Paterson are once again sleeping in the same position as the film’s opening Monday (though with small deviations such as different bed sheets). The cycle repeats as their weekly routine begins again. Yet while the external factors continue like clockwork, one senses there’s been an internal change within Paterson, and that now he may one day find himself on Doc’s wall of fame.
The man acts as a guide to Paterson’s inner conflict, helping him break out of his funk and resume writing poems in his new notebook. Paterson mentally recites his latest poem while silently walking back home through the city and past Doc’s bar, seen for the first time during the day. The film concludes on Monday morning with one final look at its main couple. Laura and Paterson are once again sleeping in the same position as the film’s opening Monday (though with small deviations such as different bed sheets). The cycle repeats as their weekly routine begins again. Yet while the external factors continue like clockwork, one senses there’s been an internal change within Paterson, and that now he may one day find himself on Doc’s wall of fame.
Paterson is humorously dry, incredibly elegant, and beautifully subtle. It’s engaging, sublime, and thoroughly thought-provoking. It’s a film full of poetic themes and coincidences involving pairs, cycles, and parallels. Paterson contains a fantastic character arc and a stunning portrayal of everyday life. It’s a story about an imperfect yet loving couple living an ordinary routine, yet also a story of ambition and willingness to take risks to achieve one’s goals—all without contradicting its grounded approach. The film is incredibly relatable and portrays its main couple in a striking way I’ve never seen before. Laura and Paterson’s relationship is the closest a film’s ever come to mirroring my wife and I’s relationship. Their's is a marriage about love and supporting each other through acts grand and subtle—of concern, caring, friendship, teasing, joy, empathy, and comfort. About the subtle character flaws and dilemmas that affect all relationships, instead of the big dramatic conflicts cinema usually portrays. What else can I write except that Paterson is an absolutely brilliant film.
