by Liam Bland
‘Well, that doesn't explain... why you've come all the way out here... all the way out here to hell.’
‘l... uh... I have a job out in the town of Machine.’
‘Machine?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s the end of the line!’
‘Is it?’
‘Yes!’
As the train makes its way across the American frontier toward the edge of civilisation, the driver portentously warns Johnny Depp’s character, William Blake what he might expect.
‘You’re just as likely to find your own grave.’
And so begins Jim Jarmusch’s Dead Man, an indie film Western like none other you might have seen before.
‘Well, that doesn't explain... why you've come all the way out here... all the way out here to hell.’
‘l... uh... I have a job out in the town of Machine.’
‘Machine?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s the end of the line!’
‘Is it?’
‘Yes!’
As the train makes its way across the American frontier toward the edge of civilisation, the driver portentously warns Johnny Depp’s character, William Blake what he might expect.
‘You’re just as likely to find your own grave.’
And so begins Jim Jarmusch’s Dead Man, an indie film Western like none other you might have seen before.
RSS Feed
