Ghost Dog

Starring: Forest Whitaker, Henry Silva, John Tormey, Cliff Gorman, Victor Argo

Jim Jarmusch (“Down By Law,” “Stranger Than Paradise,” “Dead Man”) has long been one of America’s most independent independent filmmakers. At the same time he is sometimes regarded as one of America’s most opaque filmmakers. His new film, “Ghost Dog: Way of the Samurai,” comes down squarely on both sides of the equation. A canny mixture of urban myth, gangster antics, hip-hop culture, and samurai epic, the picture is easy to watch without being easy to get. The always compelling Forest Whitaker (of the heavy-lidded gaze) plays the title character, a post-modernist city samurai who trains with swords but is dead on with laser-sighted semi-automatic pistols. Whitaker plays the role with a menacing quiet; he brings tremendous gravitas to the film--he centers it. Whitaker is no wraith-like Jet Li type; he is a big man, but he moves with grace and fluidity, so there is no trouble accepting him as a master of martial arts. (For that matter, look at Sammo Hung, star of TV’s “Martial Law,” who is no whippet himself, but still moves like an acrobat.) Ghost Dog lives alone in a rooftop hovel, with no companionship except for his carrier pigeons.

He does have a friendship of sorts with a Haitian ice cream vendor, but Ghost Dog speaks no French and the vendor speaks no English. Still, they manage to understand each other, even though they do not realize it. (Note: cleverness points for the way this is brought across in the film.) Ghost Dog also forms a brief and fragile friendship with a schoolgirl, with whom he trades literary recommendations. Whitaker’s scenes with the girl show his range; despite his threatening appearance, he projects an air of gentleness. Ghost Dog is an urban warrior, who moves spirit-like through the streets. He has a penchant for stealing cars (and a nifty gizmo that seems to make it very easy to do so).

Yet for someone whose very existence is supposed to be a secret, an awful lot of people seem to know his name, and he doesn’t seem to be hard to find. An urban legend come to life? A metaphor? I’m not sure. We are given to understand, through a series of flashbacks, that years ago, a two-bit gangster named Louie (Tormey) saved Ghost Dog from a possibly fatal beating. Out of gratitude, Ghost Dog decided to become Louie’s “retainer,” or samurai protector. He carries out contracts for Louie, and Louie alone. In their unusual arrangement, they communicate by carrier pigeon only, and Louie pays him once every year for all the contracts completed during the previous twelve months. (One of the film’s funniest scenes is one in which Louie attempts to explain this setup to some of his goombah pals.) Unfortunately, through no fault of his own, one of Ghost Dog’s hits goes wrong, and the gangster boss (Silva) decides that he must be eliminated. The remainder of the film recounts the reckoning between Ghost Dog and this somewhat down-at-the-heels gang. I will not disclose the eventual outcome but suffice it to say that the penultimate shootout involves some gymnastic gunplay worthy of a John Woo movie.

In Ghost Dog, Jarmusch has created a memorable character, but one whom we never truly understand, and therein lies the film’s undoing. Jarmusch intercuts the narrative scenes with voiceover readings (by the actors) from a samurai handbook, which may serve to give us an insight into the samurai mindset, but does not tell us much about why Ghost Dog became who he is. In fact, the film never develops any of the characters fully. They exist as ciphers in a bleak and vaguely surreal landscape, compelling to watch, but never fully engaging. One can admire the craft of “Ghost Dog” without ever feeling any emotional connection to it. A bleak landscape and a vibrant soundtrack can take you only so far. “Ghost Dog” is probably Jarmusch’s closest film yet to a mainstream breakthrough, and I would be glad to see him get the recognition, but the picture is trapped in a no-man’s-land between art film and action thriller. As an old Japanese saying has it, “He who chases two rabbits catches neither,” and that is certainly the case here. (4/15/00)