Murray Pomerance
In a time of hypermodern acceleration in cinematic narrative, Ira Jaffe turns a penetrating eye to films that embody a transcendent and deeply probing slowness. Interpretive deliberation, emptiness of moment and observation, virtuosity of meditation, the revelation of the long take, and the patient angling of narrative gain new clarity – even radiance – in Jaffe's important analysis of works by Jarmusch, Van Sant, Kiarostami, Oliveira, Ceylan, Puiu, Zhang-ke, and Tarr.
Eric Patrick
Out beyond the cacophony of summer blockbusters, re-booted films, and the whirl of smart phone users, there is a collection of filmmakers quietly observing contemporary life through a sparse and economical cinema. Jaffe explores the history and aesthetics of these slow films, and how they counter the rendering of life in Hollywood. As in his earlier work, Jaffe's economical prose teases out not just a genre of slow filmmaking, but the philosophical implications of such work. He is a master of the close reading of films, in this case turning his analysis to the emotional restraint, the suspension of time, and the austerity of aesthetics in slow films. The result is a reflection on an alternative to cinema's dominant visual syntax, and how it speaks to the human condition
Wheeler Winston Dixon
Given the often mindless films that now rule the multiplex, where everything is constant action, motion, and violence in a constant barrage of computer-generated frenzy, Ira Jaffe's thoughtful, peaceful, transcendental book is a breath of fresh air, highlighting more contemplative, insightful films, offering a useful antidote to the nonstop kineticism of mainstream modern cinema.
