Genre: Indie Comedy | Anthology | American Road Movie | Jarmusch Classic
Mystery Train is a cool, deadpan, and strangely poetic gem from indie auteur Jim Jarmusch—a film that drifts through a lonely, mythic Memphis night with an offbeat charm that’s unmistakably his. Released in 1989, this anthology of loosely connected stories is part rock ‘n’ roll tribute, part ghost story, part meditation on America’s faded dreams—and all delivered in Jarmusch’s trademark low-key style.
The film unfolds in three interlocking segments, all set in the same run-down Memphis hotel and watched over by the spirit of Elvis Presley—sometimes literally, sometimes just in the form of his lingering presence on jukeboxes and peeling posters. Memphis here isn’t a tourist attraction; it’s a half-forgotten crossroads of the living and the dead, of dreamers and drifters who carry their longing like suitcases they can’t quite put down.
In the first story, “Far from Yokohama,” a young Japanese couple—Mitsuko and Jun—wander the ghostly streets of Memphis, on a pilgrimage to pay homage to their musical idol, the King himself. They don’t speak much English, but their devotion to rock ‘n’ roll transcends words. Their journey is sweet, funny, and strangely romantic—a tender nod to how American myths echo far beyond its borders.
The second story, “A Ghost,” follows an Italian widow (Nicoletta Braschi) stranded overnight with her husband’s coffin. She winds up sharing a room with an edgy local woman (Elizabeth Bracco) who’s just left her boyfriend. Together, in the creaking, neon-lit hotel, they share secrets and half-spoken dreams, while the ghost of Elvis may—or may not—pass through their room.
Finally, “Lost in Space” brings us three down-and-out locals: the heartbroken Johnny (Joe Strummer, perfectly cast as an angry Brit nicknamed Elvis), his friend Will (Rick Aviles), and the hapless Charlie (Steve Buscemi), who get drunk, get a gun, and stumble through a botched robbery that lands them—like everyone else—back at the hotel for one long, strange night.
Mystery Train is not a film that rushes to tie everything together. Its pace is languid, its humor dry, and its mood infused with that beautiful sense of lost time that Jarmusch does so well. Robby Müller’s cinematography bathes Memphis in neon blues and reds, giving the whole movie the timeless glow of a jukebox at 3 AM.
The film is full of Jarmusch’s signature touches: aimless conversations, unexpected encounters, and characters who feel like sketches of American dreamers, wanderers, and ghosts. It’s as much about atmosphere and attitude as it is about plot—a love letter to the overlooked corners of America, where rock ‘n’ roll lingers like a memory and strangers pass each other in the night.
More than three decades later, Mystery Train remains a cult classic—an ode to music, chance meetings, and the quiet poetry of people drifting through a forgotten city. If you love films that feel like a song stuck in your head—moody, funny, and bittersweet—then this Memphis midnight ride is worth taking again and again.
