As the extremely withdrawn Don Johnston is dumped by his latest woman, he receives an anonymous letter from a former lover informing him that he has a son who may be looking for him. A freelance sleuth neighbor moves Don to embark on a cross-country search for his old flames in search of answers.
Two innocent people are arrested. An interesting third person, with broken English, joins them in their cell. On his idea, they decide to escape from the prison. Their journey is the rest of the movie.
Exactly one week in the life of a young man named Paterson of Paterson, New Jersey is presented. He lives an extremely regimented and routinized life, that routine perhaps most vividly displayed by the fact that he is able to wake up at exactly the same time every day without an alarm. That life includes eating Cheerios for breakfast, walking to work carrying his brown bag lunch packed in his lunch pail by his wife Laura, having a casual chat with his colleague Donny before he begins his shift driving the #23 Paterson bus for the local public transit company, walking home where he straightens out the exterior mailbox which somehow during the day gets knocked crooked, eating dinner with Laura and listening to her goings-on of the day, taking Laura's English bulldog Marvin - who he would admit to himself he doesn't much like - out for a walk to his neighborhood bar where he has one and only one beer before walking home with Marvin. There are day to day variations which are often the ...Written by
The poem read to Paterson by the little girl was written by the director, Jim Jarmusch. See more »
Possibly a character point, but Paterson tells the Japanese poet that William Carlos Williams was from the city. Williams was actually born and lived in nearby Rutherford, although he is firmly associated with the city through his well-known long poem Paterson, a copy of which is prominent on Paterson's book shelf.in a number of shots. See more »
Lou Costello has got to be the most famous person from Paterson.
Yeah, probably. Yeah, I mean, he... he's got that statue, and he's got his own park.
Hey, I mean Alexander Hamilton has a statue, others got statues, but not they own park! Hell, even Fetty Wap don't have no park!
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I am not sure if it is because I appreciate Jim Jarmusch's style or it's because this film is something else, but I absolutely loved it. Throughout the film, I had frisson down the back of my neck. This film made me realize how much I love poetry. I had never realized that I liked poetry, on the contrary, I thought I hated poetry. When the film ended I ran to get my poetry books out and read some of them out loud to myself. This is what cinema is about. It doesn't matter if you like a film or not. If a film makes you feel anything at all, to see from different perspectives and immerse yourself in an imaginary visual and temporal experience that you know it's an illusion from the beginning then the job's done. Jarmusch also always shows how the appreciation of insignificance becomes a soothing state almost like a stoic. I love the feeling of "afterglow" of some films. This film has it. The "afterglow" of every day, ironic, poetic existence.
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