For Adam Driver’s paterson, like the name of his favourite poet William Carlos Williams, everything seems to come in twos. Jarmusch earnestly catalogues the daily routines as Paterson eats breakfast, drives his bus, walks his dog, visits his pub, and shares his thoughts via poetry to Laura. She’s encouraging him to copy his poems and show them around, but Paterson’s reluctance to share his writing threatens to create a singularity that will unbalance his life. Very little happens of note in Paterson, but after the first hour, there’s much of moment; Jarmusch’s film deals with the role of art and the artist is an acutely sensitive way, and Driver is a perfect centre as the gentle soul who struggles to reconcile his genuine artistry with his fragile relationship to his tiny but beautifully detailed world.
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