Do we have anything left to say to each other? As family, friends, lovers, strangers, artists? And why do we always regret the things we left unsaid, instead of just saying them while we have the chance? These are just some of the musings in auteur Jim Jarmusch’s latest quiet drama Father Mother Sister Brother. Split into three segments, it examines familial tensions and dynamics from the perspectives of a father, a mother, and two siblings who no longer have parents. Its wisdom, sadness, and warmth linger long after the abstract final image dissipates. While maybe not top-tier Jarmusch, the film certainly marks his most mature effort to date.
The first segment, “Father”, follows Jeff (Adam Driver) and his sister Emily (Mayim Bialik) as they briefly visit their seemingly half-crazed dad (Tom Waits). They drink water, then tea. (“Can you toast with water?” Jeff wonders. “Can you toast with tea?”) They notice Dad’s Rolex, which he claims is a fake. A heavy silence cloaks the proceedings. At one point, the father grows disconcertingly absorbed in an axe. They leave rather hastily… but dad may not be as loopy as he seems.
The second chapter, “Mother,” features the timelessly graceful Ms. Charlotte Rampling as a famous writer in Dublin. Despite moving closer, her daughters visit only once a year: the pink-haired, free-spirited Lilith (Vicky Krieps) and her conservative, somewhat timid sister, Timothea (Cate Blanchett). The awkward-silence pattern repeats, only now the family sits around an exquisitely set table. “Time flies when you’re having fun,” Lilith comments sardonically.
“…the perspectives of a father, a mother, and two siblings who no longer have parents…”
The third segment, titled “Sister Brother”, centers on siblings Skye (Indya Moore) and Billy (Luka Sabbat), visiting their deceased mom and dad’s apartment. He was kind enough to move all the stuff out; in an empty apartment, they go through old drawings, photos, and birth certificates, reminiscing. The silence is just as heavy but melancholic, the emptied space of the apartment filled with memories and ruptured futures. Jarmusch, as always, nails it with actors, yet surprisingly, despite all the stalwarts, it’s the final duo — Moore and Sabbat — that leaves the most lingering impression.
“Accidental” color coordination isn’t the only thing that binds these families — one of the many common repeated threads in the feature; different takes on the “Bob’s your uncle” phrase, discussions of water, Rolex watches, and young skateboarders similarly reappear in all three segments. The tempo is borderline-lethargic, the filmmaker taking his time observing seemingly inconsequential moments.
It’s all worth it, poetry in motion. What’s left unsaid, that space between the lines, is truly what matters most. Resentment simmers in the background (“So, shall I be mother?” Rampling’s mother says, during drinks. “You might as well start sometimes,” Lilith comments dryly). Father Mother Sister Brother examines the facades we put up with our loved ones, generational differences (Lilith doesn’t even attempt to explain “influencers” to her mom), financial troubles, the lies and truths we tell each other, and the things we keep hidden. It’s bittersweet, sometimes tragic, yet a deep warmth prevails. With minimal dialogue, Jarmusch articulates what most families never dare to.
"…certainly marks his most mature effort to date..."
