Tag Archive: zen


NO LIMITS – NO CONTROL

The Limits of Control is pretentious, self-indulgent and slow but it is also  ‘A Film By Jim Jarmusch’ so immediately these negatives turn into positives.

The opening quote for the movie is from French poet Arthur Rimbaud’s ‘Le Bateau ivre’ (The Drunken Boat):  “As I descended into impossible rivers I no longer felt guided by the ferrymen”. This should alert casual viewers to the fact they are not about to be subjected to some standard action packed thriller.

Jarmusch is not your man if what you want is Mission Impossible type shenanigans.In one scene our hero stands outside a heavily guarded building;  in the next he is inside. “How  did you get in?” he is asked, not unreasonably. “I used my imagination” he replies deadpan.

Isaach De Bankolé plays a hit man who, like the rest of the cast, has no name – he is referred to in the credits only as Lone Man. To gain access to his target he has to make contact with a series of intermediaries who pass him coded messages in matchboxes which he reads and swallows immediately.

The spoken instructions of how to find these people are equally enigmatic “go to the towers”“watch for the violin” – “see the bread” – “the guitar will find you”.

Repetition and ritual are key themes in the movie – both in terms of language and action. It is set in Spain and when each of these contacts meet him they all say the same thing (in Spanish) – “You don’t speak Spanish, do you?” . “No” he replies (in English). Each then has a brief monologue during which they ask “Are you interested in  ………..?” reflecting respectively on music , film , science , art  and hallucinations .

If Lone Man is, indeed, interested in any of these topics he keeps it to himself.  He is a man of few words and lets others do the talking. In one encounter, Blonde (Tilda Swinton) says “Sometimes I like it in films when people just sit there not saying anything” after which they both sit in silence.

Paz de la Huerta as Nude.

Lone Man has a strict working code – no guns, no sex and no mobile phone . His ‘uniform’ consists of a series of immaculate silk suits which he never takes off even when sleeping.

His way of unwinding is to perform T’ai Chi type exercises (still in his suit obviously). The fact that he can resist the statuesque and permanently naked  Paz de la Huerta tells us that this is a man with genuine willpower – her perfect behind would be the downfall of lesser men!

As with all Jarmusch movies the soundtrack is sensational. He is one of an elite group of directors who really knows how to use music to create a visual atmosphere;.

In a recent Wire interview he said “I love music so much it’s dismaying to me to see it reduced to wallpaper”. The Limits of Control features instrumentals by his own band , Bad Rabbit, alongside what he calls the “slo-motion psychedelic rock’n’roll” of Earth, Sunn 0)) and principally Boris. Even if you don’t tune in to the movie you’d have to have dead ears not to appreciate this music.

The Limits of Control is a Zen thriller and like all the best movies it provides more questions than answers. For instance, we are left to decode the significance of lines like “everything in subjective”,  “results are arbitrary” or “the universe has no centre and no edges”. Personally I think that the moral of the tale is that ultimately  ‘Life is not worth anything’ (“La vida non vale nada”) but this doesn’t mean everything is permitted. After all, in a life with no limits there is no control.

Fahey, Bishop & Blackshaw

acousticIt’s a fair bet that any solo acoustic guitarist on the indie/underground circuit will at some time or other be compared to John Fahey.  Montreal based Harris Newman made the perceptive comment that since Fahey experimented with so many different styles and “did everything at one time or another”, anybody who plays instrumental guitar could conceivably be compared is him.

This partly reveals the exalted status of Fahey’s work but ,sadly, also reflects the lack of imagination or understanding of many music critics.

One of the main problems is that it assumes an uncritical reverence for Fahey’s complete output that not all artists share. Harris Newman himself said “I hate about a quarter of his catalogue, am ambivalent about a half of it, and think that about a quarter of that is among the best music ever recorded”.

Two guitarists who are used to being likened to Fahey are London-based James Blackshaw and Seattle born Sir Richard Bishop.  While both have made no secret of their admiration for Fahey, if you expect to hear clear evidence of this on their latest releases, you’re in for a disappointment. Continue reading

SOIL AND SOUL

It has taken me a while to finally finish ‘Soil and Soul -people versus corporate power ‘ by Alastair McIntosh.

McIntosh is a Scottish writer, campaigner and fellow of the Centre for Human Ecology. He grew up on the Isle of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides and draws upon his experience in this simple, tightly knit community to make wider observations about the technologically advanced but spiritually destitute modern world.

He is at pains to stress that this book is not an autobiography although he concedes that at times ,with its parochial style, it may read like one. Rather, the personalised slant is intended to “engage the particular to illustrate the general” ; the particular in this case being the battle to seize control of the Scottish Isle of Eigg (pronounced ‘egg’) from the lairds. The aim of this action was to enable this small community to gain control over its own destiny without fear of corporate intervention.

In the telling of this story, he talks a lot about the need for a kind of poetic interconnection with community, seeing mutual dependency as a healthy alternative to the fragmented, egoistic values of capitalism. Frequent references are made to peoples’ “spiritual poverty” at a time when we are materially richer.

His writing in the book’s first part (‘Indigenous Childhood; Colonial World’) is full of passion, self deprecating humour and the need to inspire hope. The best passages are where he combines philosophical reflections with a shamanic slant on the activist’s role, well exemplified in these lines:

“The great disease of our times is meaningless. If fresh wellsprings of hope are to be found, we must first cut through the collective hallucination that there is no alternative to nihilism. We must dig where we stand. We must get beneath the grassroots of popular culture and down to the eternal taproot. Here new life can grow from ancient stock”

Pretty good stuff, and if he’d continued in this vein I’d have raced through part two in no time.

The trouble is that, in the second part, the philosophical insights are undermined by pseudo-mystical ramblings or else gets bogged down in a tedious blow by blow account of the Eigg campaign.

While making clear his reservations about institutionalised religion McIntosh freely admits to being hugely influenced by the liberation theologian Walter Wink. This prompts a lot of assertions about the need for inner freedom and clarity of mind in combating oppression.

This would be tolerable if it wasn’t accompanied by tortuous sentences like : “We pass back through the flaming sword at the gateway to Eden with which the angel guards the Tree of Life”.

At one point McIntosh quotes a friend who observed that the more excited he becomes, the longer the words get, and it’s obvious that this also means that he occasionally loses the capacity to write in plain English. A more rigorous editor might have helped to keep the worst excesses in check and would also have avoided the need for the reader to endure clunkers like “land comprises the natural nature in which human nature comes to know itself” .

In the concluding chapter McIntosh writes that “In telling this story I have drawn deeply upon spirituality. I have drawn upon the magic inherent in all miracles with which theology concerns itself”.

While I can go along with his ideas of the need for building communal values to counter corporate greed, I part company with him when he maintains that the strength to achieve this “comes not from the ego but from that of God (or the Goddess) within”.

In arguing for a greater awareness of our responsibility to other people he is in effect advocating the need for classic humanistic principles which most definitely do not depend on belief in religious abstractions or reliance on superstition.