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The Limits of Control, Jim Jarmusch (2009)

Wow, this is absolute garbage! However, I loved every minute of it, because I saw it at the Angelika the week it opened, on a rainy Saturday morning, while I ate my salt bagel with chive cream cheese. I was looking for a nostalgia trip, a sense of those college days when I’d come into the city with friends to see films (not movies! films!) like Dark Habits, or Hail Mary, or, yes, Stranger than Paradise. Good old JJ came through too perfectly; this movie is so incredibly self-consciously downtown it reads as a parody. But nineteen year old me would have adored it, and so, out of a kind of affectionate pity for that vanished friend, I adored it too.

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