2007, USA
Adventure, Drama, Thriller
READ THE REVIEW AT The Desert Sun.
Extended version:
Who says the circle of life is a beautiful affair? Death can be sudden, unnatural and cruel.
Joel and Ethan Coen find themselves in Blood Simple territory with No Country for Old Men. Their first foray into film was a direct and intelligent thriller, unadorned with the quirkiness that has come to define the Coen Brothers oeuvre. With a lifetime of brilliant works ranging from absurd comedy to film noir, No Country is an appropriately dark bookend.
Based on the novel by Cormac McCarthy, the Coens abandon embellished dialogue for a more subtle play on local colloquialisms. The West Texas of the early 80s is sparse but friendly, and every interaction is a valued chance for mindless conversation. Time passes with little effort, and townsfolk fall into meaningless habits.
Tommy Lee Jones plays the role that only he could, as a sage sheriff quietly trying to kick up a little dirt before he retires. In fact, the entire film is quiet -- no soundtrack, carefully controlled sound effects and precious little dialogue. When Josh Brolin’s Llewelyn Moss discovers a cool $2 million at the site of a drug deal turned massacre, he barely grunts acknowledgment at the surrounding blood, bullets and bloated bodies.
Relentless death finds its way to Llewelyn’s double-wide in the form of Javier Bardem’s Anton Chigurh -- a brutal, indiscriminate killer. Those who have heard his husky, guttural voice will not know it long. He has no need for chitchat and seems offended at such waste of breath, ending conversations before more oxygen is squandered.
Perhaps Chigurh is not a disturbed man, but rather a physical incarnation of death on our doorstep. As he engages a gas station owner about what brought the man to his present occupation, Chigurh’s harsh inquisition seems to imply the man has already dismissed any possibility for a fruitful life. Chigurh’s fateful flip of the coin works beyond an obsessive compulsive disorder; this grim machine is a slave to his duties.
Hazy reflections on dirty windows and television screens allow the shadow of death to loom behind victims. Chigurh never gets his feet bloody nor leaves any trace behind, with the exception of a keyhole to the truth blown wide open.
The idea of a mythological killer with an air gun for a scythe is up for interpretation, but it provides order to the chaos. Many of the characters are Vietnam veterans who have seen death and are only vaguely curious about the troubles that surround them. Men continue to kill one another, at home or away, all in the pursuit of the greener side of the fence.
In a meditative moment, Jones’ sheriff discusses the deteriorating state of the world. The scene neatly mimics Police Chief Marge Gunderson’s final "For a little bit of money" monologue from Fargo, as both wonder how greed can lead so many to dispassionately release life. As trouble finds resolve, the Coen Brothers continue to provide focus for a distracted world.