Ghost Dog is a contract killer who lives alone on the roof of a house, feeding hundreds of pigeons and rereading Hagakure, Zen Buddhist priest and samurai Yamamoto Tsunetomo’s guide Hagakure to being a warrior. He serves only his master, a Mafia contractor, and communicates by means of notes that he sends by pigeon. As the Mafia clan splits, Ghost Dog becomes an inconvenience. Faced with death threats, he thoughtfully follows the code: he declares war in the form of a poem attached to the leg of a mottled pigeon.
This gangster drama could most accurately be described as a pop culture mixtape by Jarmusch. There is a little of the atmosphere of Jean-Pierre Melville’s Le Samouraï (1967), touches of Seijun Suzuki’s yakuza action films, then the immortality of the Wu Tang Clan’s hip-hop rhythms burst into soundscape, while the tension is alleviated by gags from Italian Mafia godfathers. This is one of the most important roles in American actor Forest Whitaker’s career, which Jarmusch wrote especially for him. The actor’s docile, dog-like expression is full of care and love for those who are less fortunate. This tragic fighter for justice believes in destroying evil and prepares for his last will, which is also death. “We’re like two ancient tribes, both almost extinct… and everything seems to be changing around us,” Whittaker’s protagonist states while listening to anthems by musician RZA.
This film is screened as part of a cooperation with Lācis, lauva un zars.
Foreword by the programme curator: Musical gangster cinema is one area where Jarmusch triumphs – quietly but undisputedly. Everything here is natural, logical and clear cut, even the loyalty of pigeons and the friendship between two men who each speaks a different language.