42 / CHRONICLESnSCREENnThe MythologicalnSouthnby Katherine DaltonnDown By Law, written and directednby Jim Jarmusch; produced by BlacknSnake/Grokenberger Film; releasednby Island Pictures.nSherman’s March, written and directednby Ross McElwee.nJim Jarmusch’s Down By Law opensnwith rolling shots of New Orleans—ntownhouses, tenements, the down andnout on a crummy side-street. Fromnthere we enter into two variations onnthe theme of domestic disharmony,nJack’s and Zack’s, and on to a story setnin a South that never was, by a filmmakernwho, until the film was writtennand financed, had never been there.nJarmusch, a young man with silvernhair from Cleveland, first made anname for himself with his remarkablynsuccessful, shoestring budgetednStranger Than Paradise. A black-andwhitenfeature film about two smalltimenemigre cardsharks and a newlynarrived cousin, with whole scenesnfilmed from a single camera anglen(mostly because Jarmusch couldn’t affordnanything else), the movie wasnstranger than nearly anything. But itnwon Jarmusch kudos from the criticsnand even accolades from the greatnJapanese director Kurosawa.nLike Stranger Than Paradise, DownnBy Law is also done in black andnwhite. One reason he decided to worknin it again, says Jarmusch, is henthought it would leave the year thenaction takes place imprecise. In that hensucceeds—this is a film without a yearnor even a season (for this is the South,nVITAL SIGNSnXJt-^nremember); once upon a time, hencould begin; long, or perhaps not sonlong, ago … In a modernized, oddnway, the film is as perverse and peculiarnas a Grimm fairy tale; it is equallyndateless.nAnd, like the characters in Jarmusch’snfirst film, the leads in this onenhave no roots and precious little past.nJack and Zack, the two losers who endnup getting thrown in the Orleans ParishnPrison for crimes they didn’t evenncommit, could perhaps never havenbeen children, never have lived elsewhere,nnever been anything other thannthe fired disc jockey and small-timenpimp they are when we first meetnthem.nWhat turns their lives around, fuelsnthe movie, steals the show, and makesnthis film as wonderfully funny asnStranger Than Paradise was oppressivelynsilent, is Roberto Benigni, thenItalian comedian and director whomnJarmusch met while in Italy and fornwhom he wrote the part of Roberto.nRoberto first enters the movie thennight Zack (played by Tom Waits) isnsitting in the garbage, blind drunk onnWild Turkey and the misery of havingnlost another job and his girlfriend. “It’sna sad and beautiful world,” Robertonsays; a bit of English he has clearlyncarefully prepared. “Buzz off,” saysnZack. “Buzz off to you too,” Robertonresponds happily, as though Zack hadnwished him a good evening.nRoberto next appears in prison,nwhere he is assigned to the same cellnthat Jack and Zack, previously strangers,nhad been put into. Jack and Zacknhave tried ineptly to get to know eachnother, but it’s been the blind leadingnthe blind, or, more accurately, as Jarmusch’snconstant concern is with charactersnchoking on their own inarticulateness,nthe dumb singing. Robertonchanges all that. He provides a constantnstream of broken English andnenergy that the two Americans desper­nnnately need, though they only graduallyncome to realize it.nWith some dinosaurs, it is said, itntook seven minutes for a signal fromnthe brain to be translated into movement.nJack and Zack can be verynnearly as slow. But their slownessndoesn’t come from brainlessness sonmuch as from defeat; from being lovelessnand utterly lost; from missingnsomething they have, perhaps, nevernknown. It’s as if as children they werennever held, and now that they arengrown, something has cut them offnfrom the women who try to care fornthem, and from even the simply reasonablenbehavior that would allown•them some small measure of success.nEven Roberto, who loves easily, cannonly heal them a little bit. After thenthree break out of jail (it is Robertonwho discovers the way, of course) andnmake their way somehow through anLouisiana swamp, Roberto finds hisntrue love in an Italian girl improbablynstranded in Luigi’s Tin-Top, a restaurantnshe inherited that’s stuck on thenedge of the swamp. He plans to settlenthere with Nicoletta and wants hisnfriends to stay, but they can’t. Driftersnto the end, they make their way to thenfork in the road, one going East andnone going West, though Nicoletta isnunsure of her directions, and neithernJack nor Zack know which way goesnwhich. It doesn’t really matter.nRoss McElwee, in his very funny,nlow-budget comedic documentarynSherman’s March, is similarly lost andnfloating in another South. Having securednfunds for a documentary onnGeneral Sherman, whose march tonthe sea is not forgotten south of Maryland,nMcElwee suddenly got dumpednby his girlfriend and found himselfnwithout the heart or interest to tacklenSherman. Thus the movie becamenmore about the devastation variousnSouthern women wreak on McElwee,nrather than about anything Shermann