Shadows wears jazz on its hip and progresses in stutter step. A plotline is here, somewhere, but in reality is a superflous element. Shadows lives on energy, improvisation and an endearing cast of characters. It might sound harsh, but Cassavetes’ vision (here) relies entirely upon aesthetic and, thankfully, the aesthetic is both gritty and imperfect. Another intreresting film was released in 1959 that shares something of a kindred spirit with Shadows. I am, of course, talking about Godard’s tres fraincais Breathless. Shadows feels American and grimy to the point where it almost revels in it. I applaud that.
Synesthesialgia 