Hail Caesar! is still a couple years away, but I'm still excited for what the Coen Brothers have coming next- especially if it means a return to their old, O-Brother-Where-Art-Thou-esque goofiness. Working in tandem, brothers Joel and Ethan Coen have built their reputations together as two of the most idiosyncratic modern filmmakers. They know exactly how to combine humor and violence to create films that are reminiscent of the golden age of film noir while staying true to their aesthetic.
Their second film, Fargo (1996), is really everything I love about the Coen brothers. It's dark, full of interesting and absurd characters, and funny as hell. As much as I appreciate the new direction the Coen brothers have been moving towards since No Country for Old Men, I miss the days when the two didn't take themselves quite as seriously, and were a little goofy. Frances McDormand is brilliant in her Oscar-winning role as the warm-hearted and whip-smart police officer Marge Gunderson, who is called to investigate an isolated murder scene that is part of a much larger, much more convoluted kidnapping plot. Marge's investigation of the murders leads her right to Jerry Lundegaard (William H. Macy) a car salesman beat down by life. Due to various financial bungling, Jerry is now in debt to his boss and shrill father in law, and plans on solving his woes by hiring two thugs to kidnap his wife (with the intentions of keeping most of the ransom money garnered). But Jerry is not a clever man, and events snowball out of control when he cannot control the unpredictable thugs Carl (Steve Buscemi) and Gaear (Peter Stormare). Buscemi and Stormare steal every scene they're in, executing their roles with the appropriate comedic touch while still trying to be cool. They're in perfect contrast to each other, Gaer being the silent but neurotic one, while Buscemi is the disgruntled partner whose temper-fueled actions often backfire. But as outstanding as those two are, neither of them can hold a candle to Frances McDormand. She is able to play Gunderson with such humility and subtle charm, seemingly harmless and... plush, while really running mental circles around the criminals she's investigating. Of course, Fargo is entertaining, sometimes brutal, and often funny, but under the surface there's something to be said as well.
In one cringe-worthy moment, Marge reconnects with an old friend who is now a successful businessman. He attempts to seduce her with his awkward charm and his riches, but Marge politely puts him in his place- she's happy with her adorable husband Norm. It's in this moment, however, that Marge is given a glimpse to a possible alternate life that would give her wealth, but ultimately misery. This theme of the corruption of money is brought up again with Jerry Lundegaard, who is financially well off on the surface, but can barely keep from going mad at his financial woes that lead to crime and pain. He will literally stop at nothing to acquire the money, even if it means sacrificing the future of his wife and son. Fargo is most of all about money and how it can rot us from the inside out, whether we know it or not. Marge is the moral compass of the plot, the last flicker of good in a world populated by the greedy.
While Fargo is deeper and smarter than it seems, The Big Lebowski (1998) has a lot going on, but really, it's just a movie about a guy who wants his rug back. When it was initially released many compared it to the admittedly superior Fargo, but over the years its iconic imagery and dialogue have made it a cult classic. A lot of what makes it so alluring is due to Roger Deakins' (who was also the DP for Fargo) camerwork and T-Bone Burnett's pumped-up and eclectic soundtrack.
Their second film, Fargo (1996), is really everything I love about the Coen brothers. It's dark, full of interesting and absurd characters, and funny as hell. As much as I appreciate the new direction the Coen brothers have been moving towards since No Country for Old Men, I miss the days when the two didn't take themselves quite as seriously, and were a little goofy. Frances McDormand is brilliant in her Oscar-winning role as the warm-hearted and whip-smart police officer Marge Gunderson, who is called to investigate an isolated murder scene that is part of a much larger, much more convoluted kidnapping plot. Marge's investigation of the murders leads her right to Jerry Lundegaard (William H. Macy) a car salesman beat down by life. Due to various financial bungling, Jerry is now in debt to his boss and shrill father in law, and plans on solving his woes by hiring two thugs to kidnap his wife (with the intentions of keeping most of the ransom money garnered). But Jerry is not a clever man, and events snowball out of control when he cannot control the unpredictable thugs Carl (Steve Buscemi) and Gaear (Peter Stormare). Buscemi and Stormare steal every scene they're in, executing their roles with the appropriate comedic touch while still trying to be cool. They're in perfect contrast to each other, Gaer being the silent but neurotic one, while Buscemi is the disgruntled partner whose temper-fueled actions often backfire. But as outstanding as those two are, neither of them can hold a candle to Frances McDormand. She is able to play Gunderson with such humility and subtle charm, seemingly harmless and... plush, while really running mental circles around the criminals she's investigating. Of course, Fargo is entertaining, sometimes brutal, and often funny, but under the surface there's something to be said as well.
In one cringe-worthy moment, Marge reconnects with an old friend who is now a successful businessman. He attempts to seduce her with his awkward charm and his riches, but Marge politely puts him in his place- she's happy with her adorable husband Norm. It's in this moment, however, that Marge is given a glimpse to a possible alternate life that would give her wealth, but ultimately misery. This theme of the corruption of money is brought up again with Jerry Lundegaard, who is financially well off on the surface, but can barely keep from going mad at his financial woes that lead to crime and pain. He will literally stop at nothing to acquire the money, even if it means sacrificing the future of his wife and son. Fargo is most of all about money and how it can rot us from the inside out, whether we know it or not. Marge is the moral compass of the plot, the last flicker of good in a world populated by the greedy.
While Fargo is deeper and smarter than it seems, The Big Lebowski (1998) has a lot going on, but really, it's just a movie about a guy who wants his rug back. When it was initially released many compared it to the admittedly superior Fargo, but over the years its iconic imagery and dialogue have made it a cult classic. A lot of what makes it so alluring is due to Roger Deakins' (who was also the DP for Fargo) camerwork and T-Bone Burnett's pumped-up and eclectic soundtrack.
Some of the best shots from the film's famous bowling dream scene
I wouldn't go as far as to say that any Coen brothers film is 'forgotten', but O Brother, Where Art Thou? (2000) certainly doesn't get as much credit as it deserves. Maybe that's because it's not the funniest or wackiest movie from Joel and Ethan Coen, nor the most cinematic, but it's probably the most ambitious. Boiled down, it's The Odyssey, but set in the deep south during the Great Depression. Prisoners Ulysses Everett McGill (George Clooney, in one of his most lively roles to date), Pete (John Turturro) and the dim-witted Delmar (Tim Blake Nelson) escape from their chain gang together in the hopes of hunting down some Everett had hidden away before he was sent off to jail. But the path to the money (and back to Everett's wife) is a difficult one, and the three are constantly jumping through hoops to evade the law, and other enemies they make along the way, including an evil Bible salesman played by John Goodman. But the turning point in the movie comes when the three friends decide to make some quick cash by cutting a cover version of “Man of Constant Sorrow” at a radio station, which becomes a massive hit on local radio. The movie has a few big musical numbers, and though it may not really be Clooney singing his heart out, the soundtrack is one of the best things about it all. The whole movie is drenched in a sort of golden feeling, courtesy once again of Roger Deakins, and it stirs up a reminiscence for a time in 1930's Mississippi that never really existed. It's been fourteen years and the Coen brothers haven't done anything more ambitious than O Brother, and maybe that's for the best- not even Baz Luhrmann could stretch himself thin enough to masterfully top that.
No Country for Old Men (2007) is undoubtedly the best adaptation of a Cormac McCarthy novel, even if it's not the best of the brother's personal filmography. It all starts in West Texas, sometime in the 1980's. While he is out hunting deer in down near the Mexican border, Llewelyn Moss (Josh Brolin) happens on a yet-to-be-discovered crime scene featuring devastated trucks, the dead bodies of both men and dogs, the pained and wounded, and most importantly, a case packed with about 2 millio ndollars in cold, hard cash. It's clearly a drug deal gone wrong, so with no witnesses, Llewelyn takes the cash with the hopes of bettering his life with his wife Carla Jean (Kelly Macdonald). The only complication arises when psychopathic hitman Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem) makes it clear that he is also after the money, but even he is being pursued by sheriff Ed Tom Bell (Tommy Lee Jones). And here's where I have an unpopular opinion: I felt cheated by the ending of this movie. It wasn't that it surprised me- I had read the book beforehand, but some part of me had hoped they'd change it. After all, while it is for the most part a faithful adaptation, the Coen's did select the most entertaining and gripping scenes from the novel and embellish them further to create an Oscar-worthy, gritty action movie. But after all of the build up, all of the anticipation of a final shootout, at least some sort of violent crossroads where the three men meet, there is nothing. And while many enjoy Tommy Lee Jone's contemplative final monologue on the violence in the world, I found it all to be too anticlimactic. I didn't want an old man reflecting on the state of the world, I wanted a classic Coen brothers bloodbath. It is a more mature direction for them, so perhaps I can appreciate it in that respect. Ending aside, No Country for Old Men really is a masterfully told tale of the good, the bad, and the doomed that nods its head to the old western movies while bringing in a modern sense of deranged violence.
The brothers obviously have a wide range of influences, mostly from film noir, but these influences are subdued enough that the audience doesn't directly think of Federico Fellini or Orson Welles when watching a Coen Brothers film. This, as well as the way they are able to craft witty dialogue and create a film with a distinctive, yet beautiful look is what makes the two men more than just directors or producers, but rather something closer to artists who are capable of painting a unique picture every time they approach the canvas.
No Country for Old Men (2007) is undoubtedly the best adaptation of a Cormac McCarthy novel, even if it's not the best of the brother's personal filmography. It all starts in West Texas, sometime in the 1980's. While he is out hunting deer in down near the Mexican border, Llewelyn Moss (Josh Brolin) happens on a yet-to-be-discovered crime scene featuring devastated trucks, the dead bodies of both men and dogs, the pained and wounded, and most importantly, a case packed with about 2 millio ndollars in cold, hard cash. It's clearly a drug deal gone wrong, so with no witnesses, Llewelyn takes the cash with the hopes of bettering his life with his wife Carla Jean (Kelly Macdonald). The only complication arises when psychopathic hitman Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem) makes it clear that he is also after the money, but even he is being pursued by sheriff Ed Tom Bell (Tommy Lee Jones). And here's where I have an unpopular opinion: I felt cheated by the ending of this movie. It wasn't that it surprised me- I had read the book beforehand, but some part of me had hoped they'd change it. After all, while it is for the most part a faithful adaptation, the Coen's did select the most entertaining and gripping scenes from the novel and embellish them further to create an Oscar-worthy, gritty action movie. But after all of the build up, all of the anticipation of a final shootout, at least some sort of violent crossroads where the three men meet, there is nothing. And while many enjoy Tommy Lee Jone's contemplative final monologue on the violence in the world, I found it all to be too anticlimactic. I didn't want an old man reflecting on the state of the world, I wanted a classic Coen brothers bloodbath. It is a more mature direction for them, so perhaps I can appreciate it in that respect. Ending aside, No Country for Old Men really is a masterfully told tale of the good, the bad, and the doomed that nods its head to the old western movies while bringing in a modern sense of deranged violence.
The brothers obviously have a wide range of influences, mostly from film noir, but these influences are subdued enough that the audience doesn't directly think of Federico Fellini or Orson Welles when watching a Coen Brothers film. This, as well as the way they are able to craft witty dialogue and create a film with a distinctive, yet beautiful look is what makes the two men more than just directors or producers, but rather something closer to artists who are capable of painting a unique picture every time they approach the canvas.
Classic Coen Moments
There's no better scene to show the Coen Brother's transition into a darker and grittier genre while still maintaining their beautiful partnership with king of cinematography Roger Deakins. It's incredible how he can make something as simple as a man standing in a doorway look artistic. And of course, this is a perfect scene to show Javier Bardem at his scariest as he plays oxygen-tank-lugging criminal Anton Chigurh.
The opening monologue for The Big Lebowski is not only memorable, it's the perfect set-up for the events that will follow. It's a brief introduction into the Dude's life, narrated by the silver-tongued Sam Elliott. Well, I lost my train of thought here. But... aw, hell. I've done introduced it enough.
The Coen brothers have made a name for themselves with their witty dialogue, and this scene where bungling thug Carl Showater goes to meet the father of his kidnapping victim is a hilarious example of that. Oh Steve Buscemi, never change.