Here's a spoiler-loaded reading of the Coens' masterpiece from Father Robert Barron, self-described "Catholic Evangelist." I don't know anything about Fr. Barron, but this is certainly a Catholic interpretation -- of the movie, of the book of Job, and of the Jefferson Airplane's "Somebody to Love." Of course, I don't see the movie the way he does (and he doesn't even mention Larry's doctor or Schrödinger's cat or the... dybbuk?), but he does have some interesting ways of looking at it. I do like the way he understands how we reconsider the rabbis' counsel as the movie goes along.
And Fr. Barron makes one simple, important point that I think some people overlook: "No one in the movie disbelieves in God. It's not a question of is there a God or not. But they're trying to discern, what does God want? What is God doing?" That is correct. The film takes place in a world in which God is obviously not dead (although it's set not long after the TIME cover) because these people still believe Hashem is a presence in their lives -- if a somewhat distant one. Instead, God is either silent, indifferent, passive-aggressive, or nonexistent. The question, then, becomes not so much what God wants from these characters as what these characters want from the (unexamined?) vision of God that they cling to, and how are they going to square that faith with the day-to-day world they live in?
What do you think? And let's agree that all comments below are for people who've seen the movie...
39 Comments
A Serious man is the best "kind" of film. It is a great story, told very well, and has a backbone - something beneath its surface that makes you think. You can take it at face value, and just think that Larry Gobnik was just one unlucky guy, but it's about the search for who God is. Fr. Barron's analysis of the three rabbis was excellent and something I hadn't thought of. The ending of the film, I just saw as the coming storm - the tornado is coming and you can't stop it. Generally, I agree with Fr. Barron, but I think the Coens had a less hopeful message. Sure you've "gotta find somebody to love," but by the end of the movie, it was too late for the main characters.
I don't like ranking films, but as I think about it, A Serious Man is probably my favorite film of the year.
A very interesting interpretation! Now parallels to Job have been pointed out over and over again but I think there is a substantial difference here. For Job, God is testing his loyalty by allowing Satan to attack everything in his life. Job never cursed or renounced God and thus passed the test and was rewarded for it. Now Larry's life is falling apart just like Job's was and they both desperately seek a reason for their suffering. However this reason (if there is one) is never revealed to Larry. I think it's important to remember the opening quote of the movie from the rabbi Rashi: "Receive with simplicity everything that happens to you." This quote came alive for me during the talk with the second rabbi when he told the story of the goy's teeth. The man embarks on a journey driven by coincidence and essentially finds no meaningful answers. But at least he goes back to living his life. I think the Coens realize that this kind of spiritual questioning is not exactly meaningless, just that perhaps the answer is that there is no answer and in the meantime we should live our lives the best we can.
Very interesting stuff. If the voice from the storm is God then does that mean the collective Jefferson Airplane is God as their's is the voice that is heard. Or perhaps that art, song, film, and the such are the guides for interpreting His voice. Or rather is that what the Coen's are saying? Are the Coen's God?!
In the end, does it all come down to math? I don't know but I'm pretty sure the cat is dead... or/and alive?
Fr. Barron is right, the characters in "A Serious Man" are working out their beliefs about God. They've already settled the issue of existence or non-existence before this movie began. The characters in "A Serious Man", Larry in particular, react (or don't react) to God (or their conception of God) throughout the entire movie. In fact, I don't think "A Serious Man" can be properly understood without a basic understanding of, and respect for, Jewish theology.
For me, the center of the film was doubt and questioning. What I am about to say is perhaps a harsh generalization, but I believe that anyone who seriously believes in God, does so in a constant state of questioning. I just don't think it's possible to believe in something that you can't see or test, or meet, without wondering. Believing in god - any god; monotheist, polytheist, whatever - requires that we ponder our relationship to that god. The moment we say that we believe in some type of god, we are locking ourselves into a mystery. We have to ask how that god interacts not just with us as individuals, but with humanity at large. The Jewish conception of God, as well as the Christian, is monotheistic. That God is singular and appears to have a grand plan for humanity. Christian theology, in part due to the presence of a literal human, Jesus, personalizes God a bit more than Jewish theology does. But many of the same questions persist: Does God react to us directly? Does God react to us as nations or groups? Is God's reaction to us limited to apocalyptic judgment, or is it personal in the here an now? Are my moral actions dictating what God does in my life, or to my life? These questions are not easy precisely because they are impossible to answer. And I think that is why the Coen's don't bother to try to answer. "A Serious Man" is, for me anyway, about locating those questions cinematically, bringing them to the viewer, reminding us of them forcefully.
The God in A Serious Man is certainly not the kind compassionate man who walked on the earth and paid for our sins. I believe in the Baba of Shirdi, a bearded figure himself, and when I look into his eyes, I feel good. Of course, that image is our creation. To us, our God is the very definition of good. We attribute to him, large eyes with a soft gaze, a little smile, a sparkling little face, and a little hand always ready to bless us and help us. I’m not sure that is the God that exists in A Serious Man, or for that matter any film the Coens have made. The Coens God is less of a man, you see, and more of an institution. An institution that doesn’t deal in forgiveness and kindness and all that stuff we define as virtues, but is more inclined towards the evolution of man. All pass through the most arduous exam, and the tough and the virtuous survive under the vision of the Coens’ God, and those who fail are punished rather mercilessly, for that God neither is bound by nor makes any distinction between mercy and cruelty. He merely deals in right and wrong.
There is the last moments. All of a sudden everything starts turning well for Larry. His wife apologizes to him. Things start getting pinker. How many times does it happen that we turn so complacent in our times of happiness. We are people of faith, and when times are bad, we stay good because we believe somebody’s watching. But happiness and sudden ecstasy works in strange ways, and hits us back in stranger ways. When we arrive at the final moment we realize about one of the film’s most brilliant accomplishments that happen in the very early frames. We notice that, but we don't remember. Neither does Larry. You see, God always has an ace, and if we are bad, he can always pull it out of the hole. Larry doesn’t do anything wrong for the major part of the film, but in his moment of ecstasy, he lets the guard down. And the lightning strikes, with the almighty’s complete wrath. It is a humbling moment. Seldom does that happen at the movies.
I don't like this interpretation. The rest of the movie it's pretty clear that we can't fully understand the "why," so if the end means, "God is punishing Larry," then the movie is contradicting itself (in a pretty boring way).
I think the movie's ending is more of an artistic choice: end it in a rather striking moment that puts everything that came before in perspective. Before I saw it, when I heard it was a "modern day Job," I was expecting some really bad stuff to happen to Larry (death of family, boils, etc) for no reason. I was surprised that most of Larry's problems were pretty run-of-the-mill, and a lot of them were his fault.
He's a pretty awful husband/father. We don't know that yet when Judith tells him she wants a divorce, but we see it later. The shot when he walks into his house and shouts, "What's going on?" as he stands alone in the frame is evidence enough of the complete lack of command he has over his household. The letters are pretty bad, but maybe Larry doesn't deserve tenure (when the committee guy asks for anything he's published, what does he say?). Clive/the bribe? Not his fault, but these sorts of problems seem (to me) like they come with his job.
I think Larry thinks he's in a Job-like situation, when really all he's got to do is grow a pair (his brother, on the other hand, is having some real problems). The Coens have always been interested in this well-intentioned but utterly inneffectual character type (Ray in "Blood Simple," Barton Fink, and maybe Ed Tom Bell), which is why I disagree with what you have to say about the "Coens' God":
All pass through the most arduous exam, and the tough and the virtuous survive under the vision of the Coens’ God, and those who fail are punished rather mercilessly, for that God neither is bound by nor makes any distinction between mercy and cruelty. He merely deals in right and wrong.
I think it takes the responsibility away from the characters themselves. They make bad decisions, and they suffer the consequences. Larry's bad decision is his refusal to make one.
Well said! I'm with you. I think the Coens use the Job story for a kind of ironic structure, but as I said in my original piece I think the parallels to Job are overblown and its world is more like Kafka than the bible. Part of the point, I think, is that this is late 1960s suburban Minneapolis, not the legendary world of the Old Testament and its anthropomorphized, interventionist drama queen God. And Larry's travails are so minor compared to Job's. Plus, Job actually got an explanation, an apology (of sorts) and restitution from God (just about the only thing God didn't take away from Job was his wife!). Larry doesn't. Part of the humor is that, although Larry's suffering is real, and his torments are serious, he also somewhat overdramatizes his existential lot. Perhaps he should take more advantage of the new freedoms...
I'm curious: what do you make of the interventionist God in "The Ladykillers," who drops a gargoyle on a man's head to save an old lady's life?
I know one movie doesn't necessarily inform another, but it's interesting - along with the flood at the end of "O Brother Where Art Thou?" - when thinking about "A Serious Man."
Honestly, I don't remember "Ladykillers" well enough. But I doubt god makes an appearance in any Coen film. The mystery of coincidence is so much greater!
Well, you might wanna watch "The Ladykillers" again. Or maybe not. (Although, I think it's underrated - at least better than "Hudsucker" and "Cruelty.")
He misquoted Rabbi Marshak. He never says "find somebody to love" but poses it as a rhetorical question: "Then what?" Like everyone else in the film, his best answer is to not answer at all. He accepts the mystery.
That said, his treatment of the Jefferson Airplane chorus as coming from the whirlwind might be the approach that finally brings that ending around for me. The detail that makes the question of Danny's survival irrelevant to the story. It doesn't matter, because Hashem finally answered, albeit in such a way to make Danny's new-found knowledge irrelevant.
On the other hand, that also keeps to the spirit of the mythology. God's form is so awesome that he can't reveal himself except through comparably awesome material forces. It's not retribution for Larry's giving in to temptation, but a friendly communication to his son.
Like with Llewellyn in No Country for Old Men, the story was never about Larry to begin with. It only seemed that way to him.
Thanks for posting this. Very cool to hear his perspective. I felt "you better find somebody to love" was the Coens' ultimate message, too.
I see The Goy's Teeth differently- the point being the Rabbi's punchline, not the occurance itself. Aside from that, I agree with just about everything in there. I also took the Coens to be saying "You better find somebody to love" (In other words- "Helping others? can't hurt". Really, "The Dude Abides" comes pretty close, too).
I also agree that no one disbelieves in god...although 'god' per se is not the point for me. My main point of divergence with most positive readings of this film, is about Larry himself. I was never fully on his side. He is plagued by unseen forces (be they chance, karma, god), as we all have been at times. But then, he commits the serious error of being pushed around by all the selfish and petty people around him. Because of his seriousness, he thinks he should accept their pettiness. And pettiness is the main thing the Coen brothers have never been able to abide.
Much of what plagued him would happen anyway...but he will never get out of it until he sees through the supposed 'seriousness' around him for what it really is- small, gray, sad, selifshness. He needs to follow the lessons of the Goy's Teeth, sit back and enjoy his son's bar mitzva. If he weren't so god-damn serious, he might have been able to accept the mystery. That is how a dude abides.
(Lebowski really has become for me the Coens' stand-in for all things good in the world).
As facinating as the articles you (and Dennis) have provided on Schrödinger's cat and the Dybbuk?, for me, I found their main function to be examples of the unknowability of things ("What does it all mean?!??!?" what my main response to much of the film the first time around). Though I have greatly enjoyed tossing deeper meanings around in my head.
Maybe it's because I consider myself an athiest, but I've always thought the movie was about how God is not in our lives. Larry is going through a rough patch in his life, something I'm sure we've all gone through. I can't help but wonder if in six months life might look a little better to Larry. Maybe he does get divorced, and his kids are still stealing from him, and his brother winds up in prison. But then again, he might be happily dating, he gets tenure, and he finally moves out of the Jolly Roger.
The three rabbis do little to help Larry. The junior rabbi's advice is shallow and almost meaningless. And Marshak, despite all the knowledge he has accumulated through the years, stays holed up in his study. When he does receive a guest, Larry's son, he only recited Jefferson Airplane lyrics and tells Danny to be a good boy.
What I find most interesting about Rabbi Nachtner's story of the goy's teeth is that the dentist does eventually stop worrying about the message. And eventually, Larry's troubles will pass.
But the end, when Larry gets the phone immediately after changing Clive's grade, I can't help be wonder if the news will be better if it's changed back to an "F".
I think the movie's world is one in which Mankind has created God, and not the other way around. That seems to me to be the premise, since the shtetl prologue morphs into the signal from a transistor radio as a boy listens to "Somebody to Love" via earphone in Hebrew class. In my view, it's also a movie about the revelation Rabbi Marshak receives from Jefferson Airplane via (indirectly) Danny. As I said before, the movie shows how eternal truths are just as likely to be found in pop songs as in the Torah.
"I think the movie's world is one in which Mankind has created God, and not the other way around."
I'm not saying that this interpretation is wrong. In fact, it's completely plausible. But I'm wondering where the distinction is. Movies traffic in the material world. Some movies attempt to depict or create a world with God by endowing it with providential circumstances or miracles. Barring those things, though, how does a director depict a metaphysical presence behind the distinctly material events on screen? The question of God being real or not never seemed totally important, because the characters acted as though it were a foregone conclusion. Maybe the Coen's don't believe in God, and maybe the world of "A Serious Man" really is the one you describe, but the characters act as though there is one, and that's what seemed significant to me. And, since the Coen brothers never give spell these issues out explicitly, we are allowed to project some of our own belief systems into the narrative. I'm guilty of it as much, if not more than, anyone else.
When Larry is going through his tribulations he is always a "serious" man. He does not succumb to temptation - in the form of his new neighbor - or changing the grades of the Korean kid. He is, in the words of Marshak a "good boy" and is rewarded for his commitment with a gradual amelioration of circumstances - tenure, marriage, barmitzvah. When he eventually does succumb to his temptations, disaster befalls him or is at least lurking around the corner. All of this eventually diminished and his triumphs and tribulations nullified by the tornado.
However this reading of the movie suggests that there is a moral arbitrator who holds our fate in balance and deeds have consequences- triteness hoarier than the Jefferson Airplane song. The other way to read it is that the amelioration of circumstances is only an eye-wash and tenure, marriage and barmitzvah are just as hollow as religion acting as opiates without providing any real meaning. This is more of a progressive reading, not necessarily true, but it does render the Larry's struggle with the kind of irony that the Coen's love.
"The movie shows how eternal truths are just as likely to be found in pop songs as in the Torah."
I always thought the ears were key to what the Coens were getting at. The first shot after the opening credits is traveling inside Danny's ear. The first shot of Larry is him having his ears checked out. The final shot is framed to focus on Danny's ear (and, like the first shot, the song is playing right in his ear.) I took that as the characters not being able to absorb these eternal truths even when blaring right into their ears because who would expect truth from a Jefferson Airplane song?
Instead, they mostly let their beliefs guide their actions or seek guidance from those who do not necessarily offer anything useful. I was leaning towards the interpretation that the wife in the prologue stabbed an ordinary man demonstrating that those who are unwavering in their beliefs often do misguided things. Yet, the song, which is easy to dismiss because it's art, has a more positive message to live one's life by.
If "mankind created God, and not the other way around," then there aren't any eternal truths to be had, from the Torah or Jefferson Airplane or anybody else. Right? I mean, Jim, it just strikes me that your reading seems paradoxical. Either the movie is about the non-existence of meaning, or it's about God's peculiar and incomprehensible ways of approaching meaning (also the message of Job, I think). So which is it? Or, if I'm not seeing something, then reconcile the paradox of your interpretation for me (if that's not to much to ask; I'm not challenging you, I just don't understand how those two parts of your reading can co-exist).
Also, the father has a thoughtful reading of the film, but he also does something that modern Christianity often does that annoys the heck out of me: he sanitizes the message and tone of the movie into a feel-good lesson. Sure, God might be saying "find somebody to love" (so is Kierkegaard), but when God shows up in that whirlwind at the end of the movie, it's pretty terrifying, and those witnessing it are stunned into awe. I think the movie might be saying that we want answers, but the true answers are frightening, and when we get them maybe we wish we hadn't.
I, for one, thought that A Serious Man's suggests that we have to absorb both ways of seeing the world and move on - like hearing lessons on Religion through one ear and "Some body to love" through the other. I found the film to be remarkably Woody Allen-ish, even without the Jewish backdrop. The film seemed to like a condensation of every Woody Allen film of the 80s and even the noughties. A Serious man could well have been named Whatever Works.
The Coens have said in a couple interviews that they didn't base the story on Job and the similarities are coincidental (they say it's more about a man's "comfort with the status quo" - kinda reminds me of "The Double" in some ways).
I think the "God question" of the movie is left unanswered in the end, leaving it up to the interpretation of the viewer (the shtetl prologue is equally ambiguous, so I don't really see your point, Jim). Here are a couple things I found interesting:
-Yes, God is a "given" in the characters' lives, but he doesn't really enter the equation until the scene with Rabbi Scott (Larry doesn't even think to see a rabbi himself, but has it suggested to him). I wouldn't call him a true "man of faith" if it's only when he's unhappy that he thinks in a religious context (there's an early dinner-table scene where Larry unknowingly puts his hands in a "praying" position which I don't think is a coincidence).
-The Jefferson Airplane song is about "finding" somebody to love, i.e.: the lack of love. Do any of the major characters have love in their lives? I think this is interesting considering how jolting and almost scary the song is compared to the rest of the soundtrack, and when it's used (the dream sequence with Mrs. Samsky, the end).
-When Marshak hands Danny the radio and says "be a good boy," he's essentially presenting Danny with a very Coenesque moral choice (whether he realizes it or not): give the money to its rightful owner (his sister stole it from his father) or keep it for his own purposes. Danny doesn't want the immediate punishment (beating from Fagel) so he keeps it for himself, of course. In the end, when the tornado approaches, Rabbi Marshak's (implied) words come back to him.
Some questions I had:
-Why doesn't Marshak see adults anymore?
-Why do the anonymous letters continue after Sy is dead? Is it because the Gopniks were interrupted (by police and T.V.) while they were sitting shiva?
-Nachtner's fable would've ended on a rather inconclusive note had Larry not asked any questions. What does it mean?
I really like the point about Larry needing to be prompted to go see a rabbi. It's something I had just shrugged off, wanting Larry to be as sympathetic as possible given how much I pitied him. But as a person, he's really allowed himself to be defined by his complacency.
I'm not exactly certain that the characters in A Serious Man, especially Larry, believe in God. It seems to me that Larry likely has much more faith in math and physics.
I think the movie is more of an examination of human nature than theology. By that I mean, it's a look at the human tendency to only look to God (or some other higher power) when things in our life aren't going well. Or put another way, when bad stuff starts happening to us we're more inclined, not less, to believe in God. We do this because we then feel like we have some control; all we must do is repent or stop doing what's pissing God off and things will go back to the way they were. Once life starts getting rosier again, we no longer need God and our faith in him melts into the background.
Larry giving his student the C- is evidence I think that his spiritual crisis would last only as long as needed hope that there is a God who only needed some appeasing before setting his life back on the right track.
I don't know--Barron's generosity toward the rabbis doesn't seem to fit the movie I saw. In each case, their advice seemed to mirror the Korean student's approach to Schrodinger's cat--passive acceptance of a mystical-sounding narrative, without the curiosity to investigate why or how it might be true or false.
It's totally plausible to argue that Larry's desire to see the "mathematics" underlying his faith is all nothing but a tragic flaw in his character. But it doesn't follow that the rabbis were admirable. As far as I saw it, the movie presented them entirely as bureaucratic buffoons. It's possible to take their superficial platitudes (and story), and turn them into something meaningful. In the context of the story, though, any wisdom in the rabbis' words is entirely inaccessible to any of the characters.
I disagree. I think the rabbis are supposed to be funny because we're looking at them through Larry's eyes, but there is some truth and relevance to what they have to say (in keeping with the Rashi quote that opens the movie), and as the movie goes on we see that they're all basically right.
Whether you're religious or not you have to admit Rabbi Scott's argument about the importance of perception is valid (as Larry himself admits, somewhat ironically, later on). Indeed, by the end, Larry's perception about at least one thing has changed: the "morality" of accepting a bribe. Nachtner is right that Larry's problems are like a toothache that'll go away after some time (before that big reveal at the end, of course). And Marshak echoes what the movie's been saying from the beginning.
What's interesting to me is the Marshak/Larry scene. Marshak represents all truth and wisdom to Larry, but when Larry goes to see him, he's busy "thinking." Obviously in some deep meditation about something. Shouldn't this have given Larry calm? That this "great man" is himself trying to figure it out? Maybe that's why Marshak doesn't see adults anymore.
Marshak's listening to the transistor radio.
Hah! I hadn't thought about that. Maybe.
That's a good point--the rabbis each have something wise to say. But I stand by my assertion that they don't display any understanding of how to incorporate the wisdom into their (or more importantly, into Larry's) lives. Rabbi Scott is most likely paraphrasing a lesson from school (and if I recall correctly, even prefaces his advice with the admission that it's a cliche, but worth considering), and the other two crib their wisdom even more explicitly and with even less personal embellishment.
Rabbi Nachtner especially seems similar to the Korean student--he knows his story well, but can't even begin to explain how it relates to anything else.
Marshak is a bit different, while we as an audience get to see his similarity to the other two rabbis, to Larry he mostly seems like an unattainable font of knowledge, like the goal in Kafka's "Before the Law".
Watching the movie a fifth time over the weekend, I think your point is relevant to the first two rabbis, but there was something that tickled me about Marshak.
The first two rabbis, you're right, tell their stories with a limited understanding of their listener's actual problem. But Marshak is quite different from the other two, in that he delivers his message in Danny's own language - and he doesn't even finish the thought, but allows Danny to put it together himself (kinda reminds me of a certain pair of directors' method of storytelling...).
What I'm not sure about is whether Danny really took the rabbi's advice. Like I said above, he keeps the money he stole from his dad. The last classroom scene is a deliberate reproduction of the first. It seems Larry and Danny are somehow destined to repeat the same mistakes.
You know, it just hadn't occurred to me that Marshak might have actually given Danny advice. Larry's difficulty in getting to him just seemed so comedic, I was thoroughly convinced--before he ever opened his mouth--that anything he said would be a punchline. That expectation led me to see him as a doddering fool, coasting on his reputation and shirking his duties in exactly the same way as Danny avoids paying attention in class.
But you're right: we don't know nearly enough about Marshak to draw my conclusion, and given the amount of respect the other characters have for him, it's much more likely that he was listening to the radio as research on how to get through to Danny. Plus, your reading makes a lot more sense given that Marshak gives the radio back. I mean, if he were just listening to the radio for enjoyment, the last thing he'd do would be to give it back, right?
The rabbi's demeanor makes it impossible to tell what he's thinking. That's what I like most about this movie: they really leave it up to you.
They've made a movie an agnostic/atheist/religious person can watch and think it either affirms or denies their belief. Watching this movie is like an act of self-examination.
I got a different read from Rabbi Marshak than the priest did. I think "When the truth is found to be lies, and all the hope (not "joy" as is the song lyric) within you dies....then what?" is more of a thematic kernel to take away from that scene; "then what" instead of "you better find somebody to love".
I suppose "find somebody to love" could pass as one answer (couldn't hurt), but then there's also Rabbi Scott's advice ("The parking lot!"), Rabbi Nachtner (the goy's teeth), Mrs Samsky (Take advantage of the new freedoms...I'm pretty sure he didn't go over there just to be a friendly neighbor), Arthur (blame Hashem), or Marshak ("Be a good boy"). Everyone's got some answer or other to "then what". Except Larry.
I think too much is being read into the changing of Clive's grade (a masterfully constructed scene, by the way) as a catalyst for divine fury. If the doctor's call and the tornado are direct consequences, then wouldn't we have to find & impart similar reasoning for the deaths of Sy Ableman & the property law guy? Also, how do we know a "Wrath of Hashem" tornado wouldn't be a result of the actions of any of the other students at the school (Danny has just been Mitzvahed and is now responsible for his own actions)? Or the parents of one of the other students or the teachers, etc? We don't know. How can we?
Just as they did in A Serious Man, the Coen brothers dig deep to expose the troubled souls of their characters in Fargo. It's quite disturbing, but I think that's the point. I happened to catch Fr. Barron's review of Fargo at http://www.wordonfire.org/WOF-TV.aspx?Page=10 . Definitely worth five minutes.
Whatever it says (or does not say) about religion, the Coens have done it again. In a year where there were not that many really good films,their film shone. It was my favorite film. Their use of secondary characters is always brilliant. Thank God for the Coen brothers!
I think everyone's missing the key issue with the "Goy's Teeth". The Rabbi's last comment was "The Goy? Who cares!" That sums up the mean of the story. Everyone is so self absorbed in the story, they miss the bigger picture - there's a whole world out there outside their own (the Goy's world). Perhaps if they had open minds, they'd have better lives.
I wouldn;t say it shows a God that doesn't care, but it criticizes the convenience of not caring about the answers if there is a God. I would say the movie shows a dying Jewish breed in the Midwest, holding fast to a faith that receives with imposition but does not search. They show a frustration with a breed of Jews (and it could be translated to many societal powers that avoid conflict at the cost of truth) that were more content with keeping tradition than truth, whatever truth there is behind (they don't show the truth behind or the God behind, that is not the purpose, simply that there actually is something there even if some, even religious authority choose to deny it). I really lean a lot more towards this being a criticism against stifling important questions, the irony that those who do so are those who are supposed to do the opposite (as Jesus was recorded to do against the leaders of that time). The movie ends in this: Larry gives up on a search, and he immediately experiences another twist of things that forces the question back (still, he does not receive answers, you dont know if what happened is because of his moral choice, but the question does force its way back: a triumph of the importance of the question over the convenience of not caring).
I watched this film without realizing that it's essentially a religious sermon in which the Book of Job is rehashed on-screen. If I had known that going in, I wouldn't have wasted my money.
I don't doubt that this is a powerful and profound movie for those who believe in the Bible and think that the Book of Job is also powerful and profound. For a non-believer like myself, who sees the Book of Job as a transparent effort by ancient priests to silence difficult questions with an inscrutable answer, the movie brings up exactly the same criticisms as the book.
Perhaps the movie should come with a warning label: "Specifically written only for the benefit of Christians and Jews."
I think you've got it inside-out: "A Serious Man" is made by non-believers (maybe former believers) about a vanished world of believers (that of their childhood). As I said in the first piece I wrote on "A Serious Man," I think the comparisons to Job are only superficial. It's really more like "Kafka in Minnesota."
Jim -
Sorry for the late response. I am an American living overseas, so I'm several months behind everyone else. I just watched "A Serious Man" on DVD for the first time last week. A pretty surreal movie. And I think you have it right, partially. The movie uses Job imagery in a 1960's observant Jewish community setting to tell a story and make a point. I agree the three rabbis are like Job's friends. His wife is like "the curse God and die" wife of Job. The Coen brothers also throw in King David's temptation, seeing the naked woman from the roof.
Here's where I disagree with your interpretation. I think the point of the movie is the "ancient" wisdom revealed in the old Yiddish story, namely, evil can masquerade as righteousness. Sy Abelman is evil incarnate, secretly slandering Larry to the tenure committee, advising Larry to leave his own house, sleeping with Larry's wife, acting like he has everyone's best interests at heart. Judging from the glowing eulogy at Sy's funeral, he seems to have everyone snowed.
The end of the movie is not the end of the story. I believe It is a explanatory postscript. Larry's doctor intimates that he is terminally ill and we see Larry's son about to be wiped out by a whirlwind. This of course is what happened to Job at the beginning of the Biblical story. His children were killed when a wind from the desert destroyed their house and then Job became seriously ill. By using these two unmistakable images, we are forced to conclude, lest we had any doubts, this is indeed the story of Job.
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