Only Lovers Left Alive (2014)

Art House Golden Rule: One must love Jim Jarmusch, he of “Night on Earth.” But his latest film is “Only Lovers Left Alive,” a vampire flick that itself seems eternal, a dark slog made for Gen Xers who covered their dorm walls with Trent Reznor posters, and still have only one weekly load of laundry: Black and very, very dark gray. I squirmed as 120+ minutes ticked by. Oh, Jarmusch spins amazing ideas on death of innovation -– music, poetry, the American car –- in a world of YouTube fame. Mass consumerism is the true mark of the undead. But, damn, how many slo-mo shots do we get of Tilda Swinton stalking down Tangiers alleyways as fat guys leer? She and Tom Hiddleston (Loki from “Thor”) are husband and wife, her living in North Africa with books, he in Detroit with his music, bemoaning the death of the once-thriving metropolis that gave us Chevys. I tried to bite and drink, but the Jack White as a vampire joke? Wooden stake. “Only” only comes alive when luminous Mia Wasikowski appears as a bloodsucker with no self-control. She’s sent packing too soon. C+