He never goes for the obvious emotion or the easy disclosure, preferring elusiveness to exposition and tracking subtle shifts of mood rather than choreographing dramatic confrontations.
The emotions he uncovers are not always easy to name. Hovering around the edges of the frame are longing, disappointment, bafflement and an earnest sense of wonder. As he goes off in search of the loose ends of his earlier romantic life, Johnston finds regret, but he also seems to be returning to the source of his fascination with women. Each of the actresses brings an indelible, eccentric individuality to the screen. We wish we could spend more time with them, or go back in time to see them with the younger Johnston.
The movie's title may imply the defeat of romance, but it is also a defense of romanticism -- its own and Johnston's -- as an approach to life that, while it may be flawed, is also generous. Johnston may be many things -- a lost soul, a failure, a man adrift in his own life -- but he is also, fundamentally, a lover, and Broken Flowers partakes of his chivalrous, gentlemanly spirit. Like a perfect, short-lived love affair, its pleasure is accompanied by a palpable sting of sorrow. It leaves you wanting more, which I mean entirely as a compliment.
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