The Coen ideology
Here's a sampling of various political/ideological (and generic) readings of Joel and Ethan Coen's "No Country For Old Men." This just gets more and more fascinating to me -- probably because I would not emphasize such an approach to the movie myself. (Not that all the following do, either.) I'm frustrated that, before I can write about "No Country" again with a fresh memory, I have to wait another week for it to open in Seattle. For now, a critical debate/montage from multiple perspectives -- those who love it and hate it and have mixed feelings:
The mechanics of "No Country for Old Men" recall those of a vintage film noir, and in that respect, the movie is brilliantly executed, as gripping and mordantly funny a treatise on the corrosive power of greed as "The Killing" and "The Treasure of the Sierra Madre" were before it. [...]
It’s easy to imagine how the Coens, whose Achilles’ heel has always been their predilection for smug irony and easy caricature, might have turned McCarthy’s taciturn Texans into simplistic Western-mythos archetypes — the amoral criminal, the righteous peacekeeper, and the naive but basically goodhearted rube in over his head. Instead, they’ve made a film of great, enveloping gravitas, in which words like “hero” and “villain” carry ever less weight the deeper we follow the characters into their desperate journeys. Like McCarthy, the Coens are markedly less interested in who (if anyone) gets away with the loot than in the primal forces that urge the characters forward. “They slaughter cattle a lot different these days,” sighs a weary Bell late in the film. But slaughter them they still do, and in the end, everyone in "No Country for Old Men" is both hunter and hunted, members of some endangered species trying to forestall their extinction.
-- Scott Foundas, LA Weekly... [T]he Coens have made a crime movie that seems quietly aghast at the likelihood of death and menace occurring on American soil. Unlike "American Gangster"’s sensationalized crap, this is a crime movie/western exercise that contemporizes the miasma of a world at war. [...]
Coen artistry heightens our level of perception. They reveal the first murder with an astonishing image of shoe sole scuff marks on a jail floor that looks as avant-garde as a Jackson Pollack painting—a harbinger of modern chaos that puts post-9/11 terror in artistic focus. But not sentimentally. When Sheriff Bell expresses existential fatigue, the sorrow he vouchsafes to his father is actually spoken to himself (thus to us in the audience). And still, the Coens contextualize: Bell is brought to reality when his father tells him, “What you got ain’t new. Can’t stop what’s coming. Ain’t all waiting on you. That’s vanity.” The Coens make that wisdom mythical and all encompassing—from Vietnam to 9/11 to Iraq and to the Texas homeland.
-- Armond White, New York Press
(headline: "A crime movie for a world at war")The most rewarding thing about "No Country" is the way in which its narrative is set up as a singularly unstoppable force, a shark constantly moving forward (every scene seems to have a goal, every frame initially gives off the impression of tightly relaying crucial plot information), only to allow itself to purposefully break down, both in terms of resolution and traditional narrative payoffs. What initially seems perfectly calibrated and dazzlingly "efficient" is finally revealed as a false comfort: the film's trio of sad characters will probably never be able to emerge from its shadows. The trail of bloodshed that occurs in the wake of the film's central crime feels increasingly less like whiz-bang noir pastiche and more like the final actions of a nation in irrevocable moral decline.
-- Michael Koresky, IndieWIREOn the face of it, "No Country for Old Men" doesn't need to be set in 1980. [...] It could be taking place anytime in the past 40 years, really.
By locating the action in the year of Ronald Reagan's ascension to the presidency, though, "No Country" stands at the pivot of the Old West and the New Avarice, a point in time when the last vestiges of frontier morality have been washed away by a pitiless modern crime wave fueled by drug profits.
-- Ty Burr, Boston GlobeThe story takes place in 1980, but cut out the cars and the drugs and we could be in 1880—look at Bell and his deputy, saddling up to scour the crime scene. (“You can’t help but compare yourself against the old timers,” Bell confides to us, in voice-over.) Indeed, the characters’ rapport with the soil is more reliable, in its grounded primitivism, than their relations with one another, and the Coens certainly honor the novelist’s abiding preference for the mythical over the modern.
-- Anthony Lane, The New Yorker
One reason I tend to dislike movies about psycho killers is that I can’t respond to them with the devotion I feel is expected of me. I’m too distracted by the abundance of these characters on-screen when they rarely appear in real life, and by how popular they seem to become whenever we’re fighting a war. [...][The Coens] even manage to acknowledge briefly the relevance of all this mayhem to the present occupation of Iraq (albeit somewhat anachronistically, as the action is set in 1980). At one point, Bell ruefully reflects to a colleague, “It’s just all-out war—there isn’t any other word for it,” and goes on to comment about the sad times we’re living in, when some people even resort to senseless torture, making particular allusion to Abu Ghraib by mentioning a torturer placing a dog collar around the neck of one of his victims.
But just because the Coens are hip enough to know the contemporary audience they’re addressing doesn’t mean they have anything to say we don’t already know, about Abu Ghraib or anything else. What I suspect they’re really offering us is a convenient cop-out: we can allow dog collars to be used even while we hypocritically shake our heads at the sadness of it all.Got anything you'd care to add to the discussion?
-- Jonathan Rosenbaum, Chicago Reader...[B]ut this landmark of a movie is fresh territory for the Coens, accused, often unfairly, of glib facility and lack of passionate purpose.... Good and evil are tackled with a rigorous fix on the complexity involved. Recent movies about Iraq have pushed hard to show the growing dehumanization infecting our world. "No Country" doesn't have to preach or wave a flag — it carries in its bones the virus of what we've become. The Coens squeeze us without mercy in a vise of tension and suspense, but only to force us to look into an abyss of our own making.
-- Peter Travers, Rolling StoneChigurh is out to retrieve a MacGuffin (briefcase full of cash), and he simply eliminates anything or anyone that gets in his way, using whatever means are available to him. The plain fact that he favors an efficient tool for quickly dispatching cattle (something not uncommon in Texas ranch country) reinforces how little emotion he attaches to the killing of most of his victims. He'll just as soon strangle them or shoot them. Or maybe he won't, if he has nothing to gain. [...]
Perhaps if Chigurh needs to be reduced to an "emblem" of something, it's ruthless, indifferent force in the single-minded pursuit of any goal (religious, financial, political, genocidal).
-- Jim Emerson, ScannersDeath walks hand in hand with Chigurh wherever he goes, unless he decides otherwise. Clearly a killer by profession, the lucid, direct-talking man considers anyone else who crosses his path fair game; if everything you've done in your life has led you to him, he may explain to his about-to-be victims, your time might just have come. "You don't have to do this," the innocent invariably insist to a man whose murderous code dictates otherwise. [...]
[The Coens] have also beefed up the laughs, the majority of which stem from the unlikely source of the cold-blooded Chigurh. From the outset, the powerful and commanding Bardem leaves no doubt that Chigurh would just as soon kill you as ask you the time of day. His conversation brooks no nonsense or evasion. But it is the character's utter lack of humor that Bardem and the Coens cleverly offer as the source of the character's humorousness, and the actor makes the most of this approach in a diabolically effective performance.
-- Todd McCarthy, Variety





















Comments
Actually yeah, this reminded me of something I ended up keeping out of my review -- the fact that setting the story in 1980 is largely inconsequential due to the startling number of glaring anachronisms. The only one I remember this far out from seeing it is the presence of a Domino's Pizza sign, a big one, in the window of one of the stores during the nighttime street scene. It's a modern logo, and sticks out quite well due to its red-and-blue coloration; I found myself wondering how the hell anyone missed that.
There were other anachronisms, but that one stuck out. (Also the wife's mention of working at Wal Mart; I'm not sure if Wally World had penetration into west Texas by that point in time.) What's this add up to for me? That time is meaningless in that story; the land is eternal, indifferent to such paltry human measurements.
Hence, mythical.
Posted by: Ken Lowery | November 10, 2007 4:09 PM
Not sure if it's in the movie, but one of the characters in the book uses a cell phone. Granted they were out there, but not exactly common in 1980.
Posted by: Liz | November 10, 2007 8:28 PM
Uh-oh, Jim, you got Armond White on your side. Do you wish to make a retraction? :)
JE: I was hoping somebody would notice!
Posted by: Chris L | November 10, 2007 8:33 PM
I wonder if Rosenbaum realizes that the book contains the descriptions practically line for line. It was published in 2003, before any accounts of prisoner abuse in Abu Ghraib. Reading the book and watching the film, I found those passages and lines so haunting on their own right that hollow social commentary never even crossed my mind.
The Reagan element occurred to me (especially in the book when Bell recounts meeting a pro-choice activist), but that reading seemed overpowered by a pure fascination with everyone involved (especially Chigurh) and the way they go about achieving their goals.
I was most impressed by the long, silent passages in the film where we watch the characters exploring their own resourcefulness. Very often, I was reminded of Norman cleaning the bathroom. It seemed like the Coens took a similar approach. Even when Chigurh kills the rival hitmen in the hotel room as Moss tries to recover the satchel from the next room over, there was the same sort of detachment that one feels from doing menial chores.
Posted by: Matt Rosen | November 10, 2007 9:27 PM
Very interesting variety of opinions there. Another take on the film, and the Coens in general, by David Edelstein can be found here: http://nymag.com/movies/filmfestivals/newyork/2007/38025/
Posted by: Stan Czarnecki | November 11, 2007 3:45 AM
Jim, long time no comment, but just thought you'd be interested to know I posted a link to this back at my usual hangout blog.
Also was wondering if you knew that one of your blogroll personalities, David Ehrenstein (of the LA Times' "Barack Obama the Magic N..." infamy), is a frequent visitor and occasional flamethrower there. Although over the course of a couple recent SoCal meetups, I've found Ehrenstein quite the witty, erudite, warm and engaging individual.
Anyhoo, just FYI. In the meantime I'll be looking for No Country For Old Men as I'm a Raising Arizona and Fargo fan from way back. Keep in mind this is from the guy who thought Jumping Jack Flash was pretty good... but as I mentioned back at the Swamp, it appears to me the subject matter of NCFOM could get a reaction similar to that of another recent flick embraced by both Left and Right (*cough* The Lives of Others *cough*).
Posted by: qdpsteve | November 11, 2007 4:11 PM
Hi qdpsteve: I will check out the Swamp.
I think "NCFOM" is more in the "Pan's Labyrinth" category than "Lives of Others." That is, I doubt it's going to win any big awards or be embraced by the mainstream. (Critics responded strongly in Cannes and Toronto, but it didn't win any prizes.) Rosenbaum's piece articulates what I think will be the mainstream response, which is that it's not to be taken seriously because it's just a well-crafted genre movie. I loved "Pan's Labyrinth" and admired "Lives of Others" (and wrote about both), but I see how the latter better fits the prestige (Oscar-winning) profile.
David E. relishes his role as "flamethrower" -- and I enjoy watching him do it. (A while back he flamed me for something, and I had to point out that he'd neglected to consider the word "not" in my sentence, so I was saying the very opposite of what he was blasting me for saying. I haven't seen him for years, but I always found him as you say.)
Posted by: jim emerson | November 11, 2007 7:29 PM
Jim,
Rosenbaum's article "articulating the mainstream response"? That would be a first. Have you seen the mainstream response? The trend actually skews far closer to your own take: elevating well-crafted genre movie into deep and potent moral allegory about our Blighted Human Condition, Inc. As went the comparable critical response to Pan's Labyrinth. To equate the lack of awards to the latter (a rare instance of inadvertent good taste) and the probable lack of awards for the former with some sort of vanguard artistry is rather spurious.
I'll toot that ol' horn again: the real dismissive mainstream response to a film that has been assessed as, at best, a decent genre pic, has been that towards We Own the Night. And I think the respective receptions of the two films has a lot to do with the kind of high-pressure advance press built up around them at Cannes and elsewhere, and the received narratives about the filmmakers: the Coens, proven moneymakers who hit a dry patch critically and commercially, are just about ripe for "returning to form", while Gray, who had to spend 6 years getting his new film made after Miramax buried his last one, is just that guy who makes dour Scorsese ripoffs (hey, they're all about crime in New York, right?). The bulk of reviews for both have been depressingly similar in both the perspective and language with which they address them. And while that might well correspond to respective merit, I've seen both of 'em, and the films speak for themselves.
Posted by: Andrew Tracy | November 11, 2007 8:00 PM
Andrew: Maybe I misunderstood the comparison qdpsteve was making between "NCFOM" and "Lives of Others." I was thinking Oscars (because "Lives" won over "Pan's Labyrinth" in the foreign film category), but, of course, you're right: critical response, awards and box office appeal may or may not correlate. I didn't mean to suggest they're connected in any meaningful way, just that I think the mainstream will not embrace "NCFOM," even as much as "Fargo" which took in only $24 million domestically in 1996, though I'm not sure what the equivalent of that would be today. ("Fargo" never got beyond 746 theaters, while the Oscar-winning "English Patient," made it into 1,400+.) "NCFOM" isn't "warm" (there's no Marge) and ends on a deliberately ambiguous, anti-climactic note.
I haven't seen it with a ticket-buying audience yet, but a friend said the audience he saw it with seemed bewildered when it ended. Even some critics who loved 9/10ths of it, from Rex Reed to David Edelstein, have expressed dissatisfaction with the ending, which doesn't provide the generically gratifying confrontation and catharsis they said they wanted and expected. (Even the Toronto response at the screening I attended was a little like that. The movie was taken for granted, and people seemed more interested in talking about something easier to discuss -- like "Redacted," which is engineered to provoke.) Me, I think the ending is perfect and of-a-piece with the rest of the film -- something I will get into when I have a chance to see and write about it again.
Anyway, here's my new piece of irresponsible speculation: "No Country for Old Men" will not win an Oscar for best picture (I hope I'm wrong), and will gross more than "Lives of Others" and less than "American Gangster." I'm really going out on a limb here!
Posted by: jim emerson | November 11, 2007 8:39 PM
Jim,
I would second your friend's response. A lot of "that was weird"-type comments as people left the theater. Can you specify what you - or Edelstein and Reed - mean by the ending, though? The last scene, two, or three, etc.? (Sorry if you mentioned this elsewhere.) I wasn't so happy with how the Coens handled the former two, but they're of a piece with the rest, whereas the beautifully done final scene struck me as incongruous. All three are straight out of the novel, in any case, where they're a natural fit.
JE: I think all three of us were talking about the very last scene, which directly addresses TLJ's opening voiceover. In the book, there are a few scenes after this, but I had that feeling of, "Oh, the movie should end right here," moments before it did. I like that feeling. I also love the scene (also from the book) shortly before that, with the kids and the shirt. Both Reed and Edelstein said they disliked the ending, by which I assume they mean anti-climax of both these scenes -- but it's been two months since I've seen the movie, so I don't remember precisely what order the last two or three scenes are in...
Posted by: Jon C. | November 12, 2007 6:44 AM
Jim, I was ready to see No Country for Old Men this past weekend, but my best friend who was visiting didn't want to go, so I'll most likely be catching up this coming weekend as well. I have seen the first half hour of it, however, and I thought R.T. Jameson's description of that moment with the pickup truck on the horizon (which you quoted in a previous article) was beautifully written. In fact, that moment was at the center of my excitement to see the movie in conjunction with The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, another 2007 release shot by the incomparable Roger Deakins which features, to my eye, the year's most inventive, evocative and stirring cinematography. The movie is all about legends and differing perspectives and truth vs. fiction, and Deakins brilliantly structured the visual scheme of the movie as a series of extended viewpoints through thick glass windows warped around the edges, or mirrors, window frames, door frames, all of which contribute to the movie's authentic period feel but also promote the thematic visual and narrative language of the movie as a study of how history is refracted and distorted, sometimes purposely, as we look back on it. If Deakins brings 1/10th of the mastery and sensitivity of Jesse James to bear on NCFOM, and the moment RTJ mentions certainly suggests that he has, then ideology or no I cannot wait to dive into the film. And I look forward to participating in what has up to now been an invigorating discussion.
As for American Gangster, it's just the sort of bloated, self-important exercise that Oscar loves. Ridley Scott has had no shame in baiting the Best Director award this time, and I'm sorry, but I've just about been sated on Denzel Washington, who wants the zing of being an on-screen badass (based on a much badder-assed real-life gangster) while simultaneously indulging the dour vanity of his performance, which insists we recognize the essential dignity of this character simply because he's being played by Denzel(TM), who would never stoop to mere exploitation. And Russell Crowe, also in ultra-tiresome mode, is buried under his attempt to keep that Jersey accent afloat (see 3:10 to Yuma instead).
By the way, I remember ordering Domino's Pizza in my dorms and college apartments way back in 1979 in Eugene, Oregon. I'm not proud of it, but I'll admit it.
Posted by: Dennis Cozzalio | November 13, 2007 2:01 PM
meh. Rosenbaum's just bitter that Chigurh stole his haircut.
Posted by: Dr. Lester | November 13, 2007 7:00 PM
I haven't seen the movie yet, but I have the book, which while darn readable, I had any number of complaints with that probably won't be a problem in the movie. One is McCarthy's really irritating refusal to use quotation marks. (Why? Why? Why?)
Unless I'm missed something -- and I looked -- McCarthy also did his best to obscure the time frame and, again, once I noticed this was an issue I was playing close attention. Because of many different elements of the story and characters, the Coens are absolutely right to set in 1980.
The book, however, played it so cagily that it nearly drove me crazy. (The jacket says it takes place "in our own time"...I guess they're excluding people under 27.) At times, I actually thought I was reading a book an 80 year old sheriff pursing a sixty year old married to a 19 year old (for three years).
Still, in a funny way, to almost (but not quite) random placement of the events puts me into mind of the almost completely random setting of "The Big Lebowski" on the eve of Gulf War I.
Posted by: Bob | November 14, 2007 6:35 PM
Boy, my comment above is illiterate and probably impossible to decifer. Must remember to be less passionate and hasty...or to write shorter posts. Sorry Jim for the poor usage of articles and pronouns. Jeez.
Posted by: Bob | November 14, 2007 10:01 PM
Here is my own take on the film from my blog, after watching it for the first time last night. I thought it was great, and aptly translated over the moral inquiry of McCarthy's novel without inserting too much of the Coens' ironic humor (the mariachi band excepted). In fact, as I highlight in my review, there were a couple of ways in which the Coens even dulled McCarthy's humor and deliberately sabotaged the audience's laughter.
On the other hand, if the crowd at my showing was any judge, the real "mainstream" response to this is going to be downright puzzlement, especially at the ending. Moss' abrupt off-screen death and the subsequent 20 minutes or so of moral/philosophical talkfest aren't going to sit well with the crowd who's there for a grisly genre picture. Although, again, this is very true to the novel's mood.
Posted by: Ed Howard | November 18, 2007 12:19 PM
This is pathetic. I just voted Blood Simple for my favorite Coen Brothers movie on imdb. Currently, Blood Simple holds 1.1% of the vote, second to last on the list. It is three votes ahead of Intolerable Cruelty.
Posted by: Andy | November 18, 2007 7:07 PM
Armond White wrote:
And still, the Coens contextualize: Bell is brought to reality when his father tells him, “What you got ain’t new. Can’t stop what’s coming. Ain’t all waiting on you. That’s vanity.”
I realize I'm coming late to the party here, but I'm surprised no one pointed out that Mr. White is mistaken in assuming Ellis is Bell's father.
So, Jim, have you seen the movie again yet? I saw it this past weekend and am looking forward to your take on a second viewing. I thought it was beautifully executed. It had the precision of Hitchcock with the soul of Peckinpah.
Also, am I the only confused by the screen shot from "O Lucky Man!"? Was it mentioned in a review but then not exerpted? Or is it just another joke about the hair?
Posted by: DVC | November 19, 2007 7:00 PM
DVC: You are correct -- and a number of reviewers made the same mistake. Ellis is not Bell's father, although he knew Bell's father. I made sure to pay attention to that when I went back to see the movie Friday, because I started to doubt my own memory.
As for "O Lucky Man!" -- I just re-watched it last week and, yes, I thought that haircut was familiar. I was hoping to actually defuse jokes about the hair. Because in the 1970s (when "OLM" was made) and 1980 (when "NCFOM" is set), that haircut may have been ugly, but it wasn't uncommon or obtrusive. I got tired of people making such a big deal of the haircut that they practically ignored the rest of the movie.
Now I have to finish writing about it. I'm about 15 paragraphs in and I realized I've only written about the first five or six minutes of the movie. It's that rich.
Posted by: jim emerson | November 19, 2007 10:00 PM
I just saw the film, and really liked it. My report on the audience reaction to the ending is that there was a pause as the credits began to roll, followed by several audible "Whaat..?"s, followed by another pause as if waiting for outtakes, before they started putting on their coats. I'm certain everyone was expecting what didn't happen. Edelstein is probably right about the desire for catharsis. I don't know if it'll affect word of mouth or if the strength of the earlier set pieces will linger in mind for enough good will. A couple people I saw it liked it, but neither of them accepted the ending until we discussed it.
I'm no good at this kind of thing, but following in the possible allusion to Malcolm McDowell's hair, could the scene where Chigurh sits on the couch with the bottle of milk be a wink to A Clockwork Orange, knowing what we do about the Coen's love of Kubrick?
Happy Thanksgiving.
Posted by: Dan | November 22, 2007 12:08 AM
I just saw "No Country" and didn't much care for it. I need time to articulate my thoughts before offering a useful response. However, since we have been sharing audience reactions here, I believe the woman seated behind me came up with a single sentence that summarizes my feelings about the film and the Coens far better than I will be able to: "I like it better when they're trying to be funny."
I don't know if I can improve on that, but I'll give it some thought.
Posted by: Chris L | November 22, 2007 2:05 PM
I have to echo what is being said about the audience reactions. There certainly was a sense of puzzlement around me, but less than the feeling I'm getting from reading the previous posts. Maybe because I saw it with a medium sized audience. When the credits started rolling the comment that sticks out was a lady saying, "I'm not buying that." Though I must say that I was losing respect for the lady.... During the handcuff murder she says, "He's a psychopath." Really? And during the final conversation between Bell and his wife she comments on the wife's "pretty blue eyes". I've been asking myself if that could've possibly been what she was thinking about. After everything that has just happened, she's thinking about her eyes?
Posted by: Patrick | November 22, 2007 8:44 PM
Seriously, what is it with the critics' obsession with Bardem's hair?
I'm certainly no fashion plate myself, but when I went to see the movie yesterday, prior to reading the reviews, the only thought I had about the hair was that it was perfectly suited to the character's milieu - his time, place and social status.
Now I find that every reviewer I read can't resist some sniggering comment about the hair.
Is my insensitivity to the hairstyle the result of my being a fashionless rube in a flyover state? Is my failure to "make it on the coasts" a result of my cluelessness regarding men's grooming, and not the simple lack of discipline and drive for empty success I took it to be?
Can someone fill me in on this?
Posted by: William Wilson | November 24, 2007 2:41 PM
I cared more about the clerks in this film than I did the clerks in Clerks. That's talent, given how little time they all had in the narrative.
Posted by: tuwa | November 24, 2007 8:20 PM
William, I think critics in general like to point out little trivial details to prove that they can stand outside the immediate experience of watching a movie, unlike most audience members, who want to be captivated from beginning to end.
Posted by: Dan | November 30, 2007 4:14 PM