I stood in the kitchen paralyzed by indecision. The mixing bowl was in front of me, the milk, eggs, and flour next to it, all of them individually as familiar as they had been a moment before, but now the possibilities for their combination were just too great. Breakfast was now an alien fractal intruding on our world like the lighthouse at the end of Annihilation. The thoughts came unbidden.
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While each of Jarmusch's family units in FATHER MOTHER SISTER BROTHER feels familiar, Moore and Sabbat are so convincing in their chemistry and connection that I began to wonder if they actually are twins. (They are not.) This radiant love for one another smooths the cutting edges of the grief of their story, because unlike the other chapters' characters, they are not alone together. They are together even when they are alone, because they truly see each other and don't shrink from such honesty and vulnerability.
But I feel like I’m getting ahead of myself, so let’s start at the beginning.