No Country for Old Men or the Coen Brothers

by MK

When villain extraordinaire Javier Bardem was questioned about working with the Coen Brothers on their new adapted thriller, he simply stated: "It was an honor." He went on to elaborate that in his native country of Spain just about everyone goes to Coen Brothers' movies. They are mainstream American filmmakers in Spain. Yet, after watching No Country for Old Men, it became clear that these masters of the cinema will most likely never be truly appreciated in their own land, in their own time.

Cormac McCarthy's novel rips through the silver screen with an aggressive violence that is disturbing and memorable--directed and adapted brilliantly by Joel and Ethan Coen. Graphic at times, this film will undoubtedly turn off certain viewers. That being said, it must be made clear that none of the violence is gratuitous or unnecessary, but rather creates a visceral experience that cannot be denied. Unfortunately, disturbing imagery is often viewed the same way by the general public, with little or no focus on its intention. There is no glorification of violence here. It is ugly, wild and honest. And it is a part of a much more beautiful whole.

Like most of the duo's movies, this film has a tone and pace that is incredibly specific, balanced and finely tuned. The art direction is impeccable, and the parched landscape of West Texas, circa 1980, is imagined with depth and nuance. The ride is too intense to see every detail, but the fact that those details exist truly keeps the viewer focused on the story and engulfed in the dusty, dirty (and occasionally bloody) boots of each character.

In essence, the story is a simple one: A man finds money that is not his to keep. Bad men follow, along with police, and all other details contain spoilers--so they will not be divulged here. What can be shared, with joy, are the names of some the film's fantastic cast. Tommy Lee Jones is perfectly cast as the tethered local sheriff Ed Tom Bell. Jones illuminates one of the more powerful themes of the film, by humanizing a man who belongs in a time that no longer exists. These "Old Men" have a hard time rationalizing the ever-changing moral center of their beloved Texan soil, and Ed Tom Bell is the poster boy for this profound struggle. Jones (despite always seeming to play a wise officer of the law) gives one of his most subtle and refined performances, handling the dialogue with a gruff drawl which provides a second soundtrack, of sorts, for the film.

Javier Bardem is uncomfortably memorable as Anton Chigurh, the calculated and surprisingly lucid hit man who is propelled by more than just the money at the end of the road. Bardem has a quiet charisma that stays with the viewer long after the final credits have rolled. And, certainly not to be ignored, is the performance of Josh Brolin as Llewelyn Moss, a resolved and not-so-average Everyman thrust into horrific danger after making the very simple choice to keep a case of money that belongs to those that would kill to reclaim it. Brolin does a fine job with one of those potentially forgettable roles amidst incredible characters, but he holds his own and maintains the audience's empathy without asking for an ounce of pity.

Overall, the film is worthwhile for anyone to watch (excepting children). A good story is a good story. There are certainly varying tastes and wider palettes than others, but good storytelling is rare, and the Coen Brothers have become shamen in their own right. This film is harsh, yet endearing. It is a faithful adaptation of a novel, so it can feel slow for someone expecting Spiderman 3. However, there are no superfluous details. Even the twists and turns of the plot may not feel as comfortable for some than others, but for those who do enjoy films for reasons other than feeling a vague sense of sastisfaction, this one will sting, amuse, anger, sadden and delight. Joel and Ethan Coen may never be accepted into the mainstream of American movie culture, but it continues to be ironic how incredibly adept they have become at holding the mirror up to the same country which may never completely accept them.


JP's Taste:

The Coen brothers long ago joined the ranks of other cinematic stylists--the Scorseses, the Luhrmanns, the Andersons (both Wes and P.T.)--who create such unique, insular worlds onscreen that their audiences buy tickets with a certain expectation of visiting a familiar place. The real potential for joy arises from seeing the inherent skills of the filmmaker shine through fanciful wardrobe, perfectly color-coordinated sets and frenetic editing.

With No Country for Old Men, the Coens eschew many of the idiosyncracies that have endeared them to many moviegoers--there's little chance of this movie inspiring epic Lebowskiesque quotefests--and have in the process created a film that, much like its main characters, draws its power from its silences. Alternating between crackling, poetically natural dialogue and still, echo-filled silences, No Country is as unevenly beautiful as the South Texas terrain which these characters inhabit. Unfortunately, asking anyone if they've seen it will most likely get a response along the lines of "You mean that gory movie with all the blood and killing? Yikes." Fans of David Lynch or David Cronenberg are familiar with this kind of reductionism ("Did I see Eastern Promises? You mean the one where Viggo Mortensen gets in a buck-naked knife fight in a sauna?"). True, the violence depicted is often shockingly sudden and stands in stark contrast to the rest of the film, but it is this randomness that makes the experience feel that much more genuine. Even if you do not weep for the characters' souls, you will want to. It will feel like the only decent thing to do.