'Ghost Dog': A Warrior and a Gentleman By Desson Howe Washington Post Staff Writer Friday, March 17, 2000

Forest Whitaker, a samurai hit man, practices his swordsmanship at his rooftop home. (Plywood Productions)

Ray Vargo (Henry Silva), the big boss, is not happy. Seems Louie's hired hit man (Forest Whitaker) whacked Handsome Frank just like Mr. Vargo ordered, but there was an unexpected witness at the scene. That witness happens to be Mr. Vargo's daughter, Louise (Tricia Vessey). That makes things complicated. The way Mr. Vargo and his tight-lipped lieutenants figure, Louie's gotta ice this hit man or get iced himself.

They grill Louie about this special killer. Very reliable, says Louie. Only wants to be paid once a year, on the first day of autumn. You don't call this guy, Louie tells them. He sends a bird into Louie's apartment every day for messages.

"Hold it, hold it, hold it!" says Vargo's sideman, Sonny (Cliff Gorman). "Did you just say he contacts you through a [expletive] bird?"

"What particular species of bird?" asks Vargo.

"It's a pigeon," says Louie. "Must be like a carrier pigeon or something like that."

"Passenger pigeon! Passenger pigeon!" corrects the third mafioso guy.

You should see the gangsters' reaction when Louie tells them his contract killer is a black man called Ghost Dog.

This is the kind of playfulness you'll find all over writer-director Jarmusch's movie, which suggests an updated version of Akira Kurosawa's samurai parody "Sanjuro." A charming, often hilarious synthesis of movie gangster lore, hip-hop culture and ancient mysticism, "Ghost Dog" ranks with his best work, including "Stranger Than Paradise," "Down by Law" and "Mystery Train."

The star of the show, hands down, is Ghost Dog, who speaks gently and wields all manner of weaponry, from samurai swords to cutting edge firearms. Devoted to the 18th-century warrior text, "Hagakure: The Way of the Samurai," he lives on the roof of a seedy building with dozens of pigeons, reading books or hanging out with his friend, a charming, French-speaking ice cream man (Isaach de Bankole).

Ghost Dog considers himself permanently indebted to Louie for saving his life many years before, so he waits patiently for Louie's next contract. But when Ghost Dog learns that Louie's supposed to kill him, well, that makes things complicated too.

The story, an unhurried affair, is basically an enjoyable excuse for a new round of offbeat characters. And Jarmusch watches them with bemused, sympathetic detachment, while Wu-Tang Clan founder The RZA's calliope-like score lightens up the atmosphere.

These gangsters may be in the business of killing, but they're hopelessly likable. They have problems making the rent. They're always watching cartoons on TV. And it turns out, Sonny has a guilty-pleasure appreciation for rap music.

Whitaker's presence is unforgettable. A compelling, sensitive bear of a man, he owns this movie, as he eases into the latest car he has appropriated and grooves to the music he just slipped into the CD player, or practices sword strokes on the roof. His calmness – partly satirical, partly quite serious – makes him equally comfortable talking about books with a young girl on a park bench or dispatching his enemies. And whether he's killing or chilling, you can't stop watching him. He's just right.

GHOST DOG: THE WAY OF THE SAMURAI (R, 119 minutes) – Contains bad language and violence.