A spare plot and sitting around limit the appeal of "The Limits of Control"

"Sometimes I like to see films where people just sit there, not saying anything," says one character to another in Jim Jarmusch's hypnotic-to-a-fault "The Limits of Control." And then they do exactly that. For quite a while.

Stylishly shot (by the great Christopher Doyle) and cool enough to make a cucumber jealous, Jarmusch's new film is a crime drama about a crime that's never specified; it involves mysterious codes, matchbooks, diamonds, people saying things such as "The guitar will find you," and a lot of sitting around in various sunny locations in Spain. Isaach de Bankolé ("Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai"), who has the kind of cheekbones that reward close scrutiny, is the unnamed main character, a wary yet oddly calm man who wears shiny suits, doesn't speak Spanish and likes his double espresso in two separate cups.

We have lots of time to consider all these traits, because remarkably little happens in the film's nearly two hours. Some vivid actors swan in and out — Tilda Swinton in platinum hair and a cowboy hat; John Hurt as the man with the guitar; Hiam Abbass ("The Visitor," "Lemon Tree") as a driver whose face indicates some complex secrets; and Bill Murray as an American businessman who may or may not hold the key to the entire puzzle — but their appearances are brief.

Ultimately, "The Limits of Control" is about the art of waiting; or about how Doyle's camera captures the softness of early-evening light (it's as if the sharp lines of the day suddenly become half-erased); or about the occasional line that gives you pause, such as Swinton saying "The best films are like dreams you're not sure you really had." It will frustrate many viewers, and it often frustrated me, but there's something about it that keeps your gaze, despite the self-indulgence of much of the filmmaking.

I was reminded of an interview with Jarmusch a few years ago, about his much more accessible film "Broken Flowers," in which he said he was concerned about his films having too wide an audience. After viewing this film, I think he needn't worry.

Moira Macdonald: 206-464-2725 or mmacdonald@seattletimes.com