Okay, let's dim the lights, maybe pour ourselves something warm – or perhaps just grab an ashtray, metaphorically speaking. We're diving into a distinct slice of 90s indie coolness today, one that feels less like a movie and more like eavesdropping on a conversation you were never meant to hear, yet can't pull yourself away from. I'm talking about Jim Jarmusch's short film segment, often referred to as Coffee and Cigarettes III (or "Somewhere in California"), a piece that truly cemented its cult status around 1997 for many of us discovering alternative cinema beyond the multiplex glare.
That Awkward Table
What arrests you immediately isn't plot, but presence. The stark, beautiful black-and-white photography captures two music icons, Iggy Pop and Tom Waits, sitting opposite each other in a sparsely decorated diner booth. There’s coffee, naturally. And cigarettes, inevitably. But mostly, there’s this delicious, palpable awkwardness hanging in the air, thick as the smoke. It’s a setup so simple it borders on audacious: put two legends together and just… let the tape roll. Does it feel scripted? Barely. And that’s precisely its genius.
When Titans Share a Smoke
The magic here lies entirely in the casting and the chemistry – or perhaps, the fascinating lack of easy chemistry. Iggy Pop, all nervous energy and slightly forced bonhomie, contrasts sharply with Tom Waits's gruff, world-weary suspicion. They play versions of themselves, or perhaps versions of what they imagine the other expects them to be. Remember that brilliant, cringeworthy moment where Iggy tries to compliment Tom on his drumming on a recent track, only for Tom to look utterly bewildered? It’s moments like these – tiny fissures in the façade of cool – that make this short so compelling.
Their conversation circles mundane topics – quitting smoking (a pact hilariously, immediately broken), the merits of the café’s coffee, the absence of cigarettes in the jukebox selection. Yet beneath the surface, you sense unspoken rivalries, anxieties, and a shared understanding of inhabiting a strange world of public perception. It’s a masterclass in subtext. Jarmusch, known for his minimalist aesthetic seen in films like Down by Law (1986) and later Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai (1999), trusts his actors implicitly. He allows the silences to speak volumes, the camera often lingering in static shots that force us to sit with the discomfort, finding humor and humanity in the pauses.
Retro Fun Facts: A Short's Long Journey
While many of us might associate finding this gem with digging through indie compilations or catching it on late-night cable around '97, its roots go back a bit further. This specific segment, officially titled "Somewhere in California," actually snagged the Short Film Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival back in 1993. It’s a testament to its immediate impact. It was, of course, part of Jarmusch's long-gestating project that eventually culminated in the full Coffee and Cigarettes feature anthology released in 2003, which gathered several similar vignettes filmed over many years.
The story goes that the central gag – both claiming they've quit smoking right before lighting up – came about quite naturally. It perfectly encapsulates that blend of self-awareness and human fallibility that permeates the piece. Filming reportedly took place in a real, unassuming café location, adding to the fly-on-the-wall authenticity. There's a certain charm, isn't there, to knowing such iconic figures could be captured in such an unglamorous, everyday setting? It felt like a secret handshake for fans of the underground, a stark contrast to the slick productions dominating the video store shelves.
Lingering Taste
What stays with you after the brief runtime? It's not a story beat, but a feeling. The smoky atmosphere, the stark visuals, the sheer, strange delight of seeing Iggy Pop and Tom Waits navigate this low-key verbal sparring match. It raises quiet questions about fame, connection, and the rituals we use to bridge awkward gaps. Does sharing coffee and cigarettes forge a bond, or merely mark time? The film offers no easy answers, content to simply present the encounter in all its odd glory.
For those of us who cherished discovering these kinds of unique cinematic moments on worn VHS tapes, perhaps taped off a late-night arts program or found in the dusty corner of a rental store's "Cult Classics" section, Coffee and Cigarettes III holds a special place. It wasn't loud or explosive, but it was undeniably cool, authentic, and unforgettable. It felt like stumbling upon something real.
Rating: 9/10
This near-perfect score reflects the short's absolute mastery of its limited scope. It achieves exactly what it sets out to do: capture a brief, awkward, yet mesmerizing interaction between two cultural giants, filtered through Jarmusch's unique lens. The performances are pitch-perfect in their portrayal of slightly uncomfortable reality, and the minimalist aesthetic serves the piece beautifully. It's a concentrated shot of indie filmmaking brilliance.
It leaves you pondering the strange theatre of celebrity and the simple, shared habits that make us human, even when sitting across from a rock and roll legend. Now, who's putting the kettle on?