Plot
Texas 1980. Whilst hunting in the desert, everyman Llewellyn Moss (Brolin) stumbles across the remnants of a drug deal gone bad and makes away with the cash. A bloody chase ensues as the man sent after him to recover the loot, is an amoral killer (Bardem) who will stop at nothing.
Texas 1980. Whilst hunting in the desert, everyman Llewellyn Moss (Brolin) stumbles across the remnants of a drug deal gone bad and makes away with the cash. A bloody chase ensues as the man sent after him to recover the loot, is an amoral killer (Bardem) who will stop at nothing.
Review
The Coens’ latest endeavour is said to be an impossibly faithful adaptation of Cormac McCarthy’s acclaimed novel and is nominated for an impressive eight Oscars. It is therefore possible that the problem I have with the narrative is a bi-product of not having read the book. Nonetheless, it is never clear who commissions Anton (Javier Bardem) and it is impossible to keep track of the various truckloads of Mexicans sent out to also reclaim the money. Perhaps most disappointingly is the way in which Llewellyn (Josh Brolin) is killed. He is the strangely amiable anti-hero the viewer is rooting for, yet he is not even afforded the dignity of memorable death. Instead he falls victim of a messy shoot-out involving the Mexicans and the viewer only witnesses the aftermath.
That aside, it would be unfair not to acknowledge that the Coen brothers are definitely back on form after the rather forgettable Intolerable Cruelty and The Ladykillers. No Country For Old Men captures the magnitude of the Texan landscape with breathtaking panoramic shots and it is this sprawling landscape that acts as a constant reminder of the doom that seems to follow Llewellyn wherever he goes. All the open space only heightens the stench of death as there is nowhere to hide from it. Death permeates through the oppressive silence as the Coens masterfully convert a footfall on a wooden floor or the soft breeze scaling the rough terrain, into an unbearable tension.
It is without a doubt the faultless performances that set this film aside from others of a similar genre. Brolin is the resourceful noir hero who although is not altogether morally correct, is affable and delivers some of the film’s best dry humoured lines. Particularly memorable is one of his conversations with wife Carla Jean (Kelly Macdonald). Just before he goes on the run he says “If I don’t come back, tell my mother I love her” to which Carla Jean replies “Your mother’s dead”. “Then I’ll tell her myself” he mutters. Tommy Lee Jones’ Sheriff provides a stillness and grace that is detached from the sporadic ultra violence. Perhaps the most convincing yet terrifying performance is that of Bardem as the psycho killer obsessed with chance, taking lives at the random toss of a coin. Donning an unsettling bowl-cut hair do and armed with an equally unsettling weapon (a pressurised cylinder traditionally used to kill cattle), he is the embodiment of pure evil.
The Coens’ latest endeavour is said to be an impossibly faithful adaptation of Cormac McCarthy’s acclaimed novel and is nominated for an impressive eight Oscars. It is therefore possible that the problem I have with the narrative is a bi-product of not having read the book. Nonetheless, it is never clear who commissions Anton (Javier Bardem) and it is impossible to keep track of the various truckloads of Mexicans sent out to also reclaim the money. Perhaps most disappointingly is the way in which Llewellyn (Josh Brolin) is killed. He is the strangely amiable anti-hero the viewer is rooting for, yet he is not even afforded the dignity of memorable death. Instead he falls victim of a messy shoot-out involving the Mexicans and the viewer only witnesses the aftermath.
That aside, it would be unfair not to acknowledge that the Coen brothers are definitely back on form after the rather forgettable Intolerable Cruelty and The Ladykillers. No Country For Old Men captures the magnitude of the Texan landscape with breathtaking panoramic shots and it is this sprawling landscape that acts as a constant reminder of the doom that seems to follow Llewellyn wherever he goes. All the open space only heightens the stench of death as there is nowhere to hide from it. Death permeates through the oppressive silence as the Coens masterfully convert a footfall on a wooden floor or the soft breeze scaling the rough terrain, into an unbearable tension.
It is without a doubt the faultless performances that set this film aside from others of a similar genre. Brolin is the resourceful noir hero who although is not altogether morally correct, is affable and delivers some of the film’s best dry humoured lines. Particularly memorable is one of his conversations with wife Carla Jean (Kelly Macdonald). Just before he goes on the run he says “If I don’t come back, tell my mother I love her” to which Carla Jean replies “Your mother’s dead”. “Then I’ll tell her myself” he mutters. Tommy Lee Jones’ Sheriff provides a stillness and grace that is detached from the sporadic ultra violence. Perhaps the most convincing yet terrifying performance is that of Bardem as the psycho killer obsessed with chance, taking lives at the random toss of a coin. Donning an unsettling bowl-cut hair do and armed with an equally unsettling weapon (a pressurised cylinder traditionally used to kill cattle), he is the embodiment of pure evil.
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