No Country For Old Men
No Country for Old Men is perhaps the most un-Coen brothers like film the Coen Brothers have ever made. It is an amazingly faithful adaptation of Cormac McCarthy's novel of the same name, and as a result employs a somewhat spare visual aesthetic which is in stark contrast the duos's highly stylised Man Who Wasn't There, or O Brother Where Art Thou? The washed out colour scheme and harsh light of the barren American West serve as the ideal environs for the grizzled actors to inhabit as they deliver the clipped and unmistakable McCarthy dialogue, lifted often verbatim from the source material.
A drug deal gone wrong has left a swathe of bodies and shot up trucks in the desert, just as local good old boy Moss (Josh Brolin) stumbles upon the scene – and the $2 million dollars in cash left for the taking. In a tightly wound two hours, the films traces his fate, and that of the sociopathic Chigurh – a bounty hunter with dubious motives in pursuit of the money, played with dead eyed calculation by Javier Bardem. From this heist movie staple set up, the plot goes on reveals its true heart to be a rumination on consequence – a very bloody one – a motif that McCarthy explores as a writer without par.
McCarthy is fascinated by human brutalities and incarnations of evil. His most famous may be The Judge in Blood Meridian, his 1971 Old West opus, which has been optioned by Tommy Lee Jones. Tommy Lee Jones stars in Old Men (SEGUES! I CAN HAS THEM!) as the small town Sheriff in his twilight years, hardened by the decades in the job, yet still struggling to comprehend the depravity of the crimes committed in his county, reading his newspaper with quiet shakes of the head and black coffee. As the narrator, his character stands as the film's moral compass, wearily following the path of destruction paved by Moss and Chigurh, and always two footsteps behind, too late.
There is tension in this film ratcheted up to almost unbearable levels by the climax (or is it anti? – you'll decide.) The script is watertight and the performances are each exceptional, especially Bardem as the Judge-like killer with the terrifying weapon of choice. This is a vision lifted so precisely from the page, it will impress even those of us who are fans of McCarthy and already know the turns in the story. And if you don't, I'd venture that the suspense would be thrilling. This film is a bonafide entry into the Western canon, despite its modern setting. A deeply unsettling, but hugely rewarding experience.
(I thought I might get through this review without mentioning Javier Bardem's hair. But I can't. Javier Bardem's hair, I'm sure it had its own trailer. WHO STYLED THIS MOVIE? The editor of Cosmo circa 1978? WTF is with the hair? FIN.)
Four and a half stars
[Originally published in the Brag]