So, for this installment of Questionable Taste Theatre, I will be reviewing Stormy Monday, a movie I love and can never remember the ending of, because the movie is so much atmosphere and so little plot that the movie ITSELF doesn’t really care about the ending.

Nutshell: During “America Week” in Newcastle, England, a young man looking for work at a club ends up tangled in a web of love, business, crime, and a Polish jazz band.

I first saw this movie when I was about 12, and even though I didn’t see it again for several years I remembered it vividly. The plot, which is secondary, receded into the background immediately, but the way this movie is structured and shot makes it one of the most compelling movies of its genre. If “mood piece” is a genre.

Check that out. Thumbs up, Figgis.

Long story short: Brendan (Sean Bean) finds work cleaning Finney’s (Sting) nightclub. It’s “America Week”, and in order to join in the festivities Brendan is set to work shuttling around a Polish jazz band — the most important plot element, by the way. Look at this:

With a ‘stache like this, the movie’s GOTTA be good.

The plot, if there is one, centers around the festival: Brendan’s relationship with his enigmatic boss; his enigmatic boss’s relationship with Cosmo (Tommy Lee Jones), an American businessman who’s taking “America Week” seriously and wants to snatch up some real estate; and Kate, an American lost soul who waits tables and occasionally escorts for Cosmo.

But this isn’t at all what the movie’s about. The movie is about windows and mirrors, television as crystal ball, the distances between people.

Or, in the above case, the distance between a man and his Billie Holliday poster.

The most amazing thing about this movie is how fucking quiet it is. The loudest thing that happens is the Polish jazz band getting experimental. It sucks you in with quiet, offbeat scenes. Kate and Brendan dance to blues in a nightclub, and in the background you see a supermodel-type close dancing with a short, bald guy, her chin resting on his head. A piano tuner silently moves through all the characters’ lives, and is never remarked upon. Finney, threatened and friendless, plays a bass solo in his empty club as the camera sits quietly nearby like the last patron. Brendan, instructed to tell Finney when the bruisers show up, waits in the rim of a round window. (Seriously, that’s the whole scene, and it’s amazing.)

What this movie does right: Almost everything. This is one of those movies I’m surprised doesn’t get mentioned more often in the history of art-house film; the artistry here is not to be missed. Also, not once does it talk down to its audience; it gives you a million quiet moments and doesn’t force a big theme on them. Just, quiet moments. I’d say more, but there are too many spoilers, and this movie has so little plot it seems a shame to give away the only two plot points left. Casting: Tommy Lee Jones is great, Sean Bean gives his second-best performance of his career (Go Boromir!), and Sting is so quiet and in control that I just assumed Sting could act. Uh, until I saw him act in other stuff. Oh, Sting.

What this movie does wrong: Eh, Melanie Griffith doesn’t really have chops, but her part is “object of the gaze”, so I suppose it doesn’t matter. Oh, and the Polish jazz band is awful. Seriously.

Above: Paging Edward Hopper.

Final word: HELLA RECOMMENDED. I am not ashamed to love this movie in public. It’s a total mood piece, and it is just too cool for school.

(Pic credit goes to The Mighty Bean.)

ETA: Great vid of the movie: