No Country For Anybody, Really
A brief thought about the much lauded and Oscar Winning No Country For Old Men, based on the novel by Cormac McCarthy and adapted and directed by those typically wacky Coen brothers (they of Raising Arizona, The Big Lebowski, and O Brother, Where Art Thou fame, among many many others):
(ATTENTION: PLOT SPOILERS FOLLOW. NOT EXPLICITLY, BUT IN THE FORM OF THEMATIC COMMENTS THAT WILL GIVE YOU SOME PRETTY GOOD IDEAS ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS IN THE FILM.)
I read the book on which the movie is based, and I have also seen a play written by Cormac McCarthy, and not coincidentally the theme of these two works was pretty similar. I'll get to the specifics of that theme in a minute, but for now let's just say that it is a theme that substantially contradicts my personal nature, right down to the core.
Because I knew what I was getting in to, I was able to watch No Country For Old Men with a significant amount of emotional detachment, focusing on the artistry rather than being dragged below the waves by the pervasive bleakness. Aesthetically speaking, in just about every aspect, it is one hell of a movie. Javier Bardem is downright terrifying. Tommy Lee Jones is vintage Tommy Lee Jones, a casting choice that any of us could have made in our sleep, but one that is nonetheless dead on. There was no other actor for that role. The other performances are also excellent. More than anything, however, the movie just looks amazing. It captures the spare, brutal beauty of rural Texas in perfect tones and shades. The interior shots are wonderfully lit. The action scenes unfold in an interesting and for the most part plausible manner. The near-total lack of a soundtrack is a riveting choice. Every single element of the movie fits perfectly together in terms of aesthetics and tone, and every one of those elements supports the same overarching theme in my mind, and that's where my disconnect comes along.
Here, in my personal opinion, is what No Country For Old Men has to say about America, about Life, about The Human Condition:
There is in this world a rising tide of pure, unmitigated evil, one that does not threaten, but rather promises to overwhelm us. It will destroy reckless dreamers, helpless innocents, uninvolved bystanders, and well-intentioned protectors alike without pause and without quarter. There is no hope. No amount of running can escape it, and no amount of opposing will overcome it. This rising tide is unstoppable, and the only choice is to succumb: die or get out of the way.
I don't think I'll get too much argument about this from those out there who have seen the movie. I know of one person who has a somewhat different take, and he might choose to offer that up, but I feel like I've pretty well nailed the intentions of McCarthy and the Coen Brothers.
And this, good people of America, is the Best Picture.
I'm not advocating a different choice for the award. I only saw this one, Juno, and Michael Clayton, but from what I hear Atonement and There Will Be Blood are similarly devoid of hope. The choices aren't the point. The point is this, and it echoes a long-running debate I've had with a good friend about the movie Seven: If you as an actor, a writer, a director, a producer, a designer (etc.) have the level of talent to create a movie of this artistic quality, why are you spending that talent telling me something that I can learn by reading three pages of almost any section of any newspaper? The news that you bring to me is that humanity is flawed to the point of despair? That people are capable of unspeakable cruelty to one another and there is nothing to consider beyond that point? That no amount of effort, no amount of will, no amount of good intention, no amount of innocence is sufficient to counteract - or, really to in any minuscule way mitigate - the forces of darkness, evil, and depravity? That essentially, finally, and fundamentally, the story of being human is the story of being without hope?
Really? This is what you bring me? Next time, take your hours and hours of work, your unspeakable talents, you amazing eye and your way with words, and keep them to yourself, please. I have divorce and Iraq and genocide and rape and infant mortality and cancer and infidelity and heartbreak and failure and every other grim fact of real life to make a pretty strong argument that hope and redemption are hard to come by.
And let me make this clear: I do not want rainbows and puppy dogs. I am not an idiot who believes that life is a simple happy ending. What I want is hope. What I want is the tiny moments of joy and beauty. What I want is the smile on Lester Burnham's face as he lies dead in a pool of his own blood. What I want is one tiny morsel to cling to that yes, this really is all worth it, and yes, it all really does mean something, and yes, we can get through it, and yes, there can be redemption.
This is not too much to ask. It just isn't.
Sermon over. Stepping down off the soapbox now.
posted by Tyler @ 12:25 PM
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