It’s
with some trepidation that I write about the Coen brothers’
new film, No Country for Old Men. That’s not
because it’s no good – indeed, it’s excellent.
And it’s not because there isn’t plenty to write
about the film – the Internet and film magazines are already
filling with lengthy and learned articles exploring just about
every facet of the film. No, the reason is that I’m unsure
I can do the film justice.
On the surface, the Coens have returned to the crime genre
that’s probably their forte (think Blood Simple,
Miller’s Crossing and Fargo). But there’s
a lot more to No Country for Old Men than a simple
crime thriller. The film will undoubtedly be many things to
many people, but it’s at least a metaphysical contemplation
on the nature of evil, an homage to the Western and an example
of literate and elliptical filmmaking at its very best.
For the first time, the Coens have adapted their film another
work, Cormac McCarthy’s novel of the same name. While
having read the book will clearly be an advantage in approaching
this film, it’s by no means essential. The film has an
internal logic and a grammar all its own.
Basically the film follows the interplay between three characters.
First, there’s Llewelyn Moss (Josh Brolin), a trailer
park resident who stumbles across the aftermath of a drug deal
gone wrong in the desert and finds a suitcase filled with cash.
Then there’s Sheriff Ed Tom Bell (Tommy Lee Jones), who’s
assigned to the case and effectively acts as the film’s
narrator. And finally, there’s Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem),
a killer hired to recover the lost money.
While the film starts out as a contest between the three men
– Moss on the run from Chigurh, who’s in turn being
pursued by Bell – it soon becomes clear that this is far
more than a chase caper. By the end of the film, it’s
clear that its point (or one of them at least) is to explore
the kind of evil that few of us can even contemplate.
In the character of Chigurh, the Coens have created one of
the screen’s all-time most memorable bad guys. He’s
a ruthless, remorseless and relentless killing machine; an embodiment
of malevolence up there with Peter Lorre’s monster in
Fritz Lang’s M and Robert Mitchum’s predator
in Charles Laughton’s Night of the Hunter. Taking
cues from the book however, the Coens build questions around
him that don’t have easy answers.
McCarthy’s writing has been said to parlay themes from
sources as diverse as the Bible, Shakespeare and Faulkner. Much
of that - and more - comes through in this film. In cinematic
terms, possibly the closest comparison is to John Ford’s
seminal Western The Searchers. Like that film, No
Country for Old Men takes place in a desolate borderland
(in The Searchers, between civilization and wilderness;
here, between the US and Mexico). It’s a place of untamed
beauty but incredible harshness. The plot of both films features
a journey through this bleak landscape in the hope of something
better, and the journey ends by revealing not the better angels
of our nature, but the bitter truth that in some cases, human
nature is ruled by cruelty and iniquity.
The
ending may result in no little head scratching trying to figure
out what it all means. Indeed, there are several moments when
the film makes demands of the audience that go beyond what we’ve
become accustomed to. That, in my opinion, is one of its great
strengths – that it demands that we engage with it, and
not just ‘consume’ it like it was a confectionary
bar.
I should add however that this won’t be a film for all
tastes. Its elliptical and sometimes confusing structure (even
down to the structure of individual scenes) will be too much
for many. Indeed, at the preview screening I attended, a clutch
of teenage girls walked out on it, suggesting it may not ‘play’
to that particular demographic. It’s also very violent,
so be warned if you’re sensitive to gore.
Josh Brolin is great as the resourceful but out-of-his-depth
Moss. He has an easy charm in front of the camera that generates
empathy for his character. Tommy Lee Jones is, as usual, excellent
as the weathered law enforcement veteran forced to face things
he would rather not; and Kelly Macdonald as Moss’s wife
drops her Scottish brogue for a Southern twang to great effect.
But for all those fine performances, this film belongs to Javier
Bardem as Chigurh. They say bad guys are the best parts for
actors to play, but rarely has the depth of his malevolence
in this film been matched on screen. It’s quite a remarkable
transformation when you think of Bardem in films like Before
Night Falls and Collateral. This could well be a career-defining
role for him, and he takes the opportunity with both hands.
No Country for Old Men is essential cinema from the
Coen brothers. This must surely rank up there with their best
work; and when you think that they made one of the great films
of the 1990s in Fargo, that’s quite a statement.
It’s arguably not going too far to say that they’ve
done it again with this film. No Country for Old Men
isn’t just the film of the year for me, it could be the
film of the decade.
