As the extremely withdrawn Don Johnston is dumped by his latest woman, he receives an anonymous letter from a former lover informing him that he has a son who may be looking for him.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 poems in the film came from Ron Padgett, one of Jim Jarmusch's favorite contemporary poets, who agreed to write the poems for the film and who let Jarmusch use some of his pre-existing poems. See more »
It's made clear that Paterson doesn't own or use a cel phone, but when he has to borrow one, he dials it using his thumbs. A person not used to texting on a cel phone would use his index finger to dial. See more »
I had a beautiful dream. We had two little children. Twins.
If we had children, would you like it if they were twins?
Mmm... Mmm-hmm. Yeah. Twins. Sure, why not?
One for each of us.
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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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