Post by TheOogieBoogieMan on Feb 1, 2008 0:23:45 GMT -5
The praise No Country For Old Men has received so far has been almost unanimous. It has been nominated for eight Academy Awards, just three shy of the current record; it's being called an American masterpiece and the greatest thing the Coen Brothers have created so far. I wouldn't be surprised if, in some small corner of the internet, someone is giving No Country credit for curing them of a really nasty headcold. It seems like the only person responsible for keeping the love for this movie from being entirely universal is Yours Truly.
I will say this about No Country...there is definitely the seed of a good movie within it. The basic story of Josh Brolin being chased by a giant psychopath after a drug deal goes down the wrong way could have been made into a very good movie. But this isn't it.
My problem with No Country is this: I just didn't care. The film didn't offer anything that appealed to me. There was no one character that I could root for, sympathize with, or even just be impressed by. The only character who came close was the aforementioned psychopath himself, who makes quite an impression when he kills a cop with a cattlegun within the first five or so minutes of the movie. As it turns out, that cattlegun is the only thing that's interesting about the guy. If his weapon of choice was a standard pistol, Mr. Psychopath wouldn't have anything going for him.
In O Brother, Where Art Thou?, a superior film by far, the Coen Brothers colour the movie in a sepia tone in order to evoke the desolate era that was the Great Depression. In No Country, despite its more modern setting, the Coen Brothers apply the sepia tone once more, only they go too far and apply the desolate colour to the characters themselves, making them as dull and uninteresting as possible. Josh Brolin and his beard just keep running and running, while Mr. Psychopath (I don't remember the character's actual name) follows behind with all the intensity of a block of wood, and Tommy Lee Jones and Woody Harrelson spend their time on screen mumbling about something or other in their exaggerated Texan accents. Yahoo.
Within all of this, there's a feeling that there'ssomething going on that supposed to be some sort of depth or significance to whatever is going on in the movie. After seeing the movie and reading all the woo that critics were flinging towards it, it felt like No Country was Lassie, and I was the one villager who thought the dog was just barking loudly.
There may be some sort of symbolism in its dreariness and its non-ending. Maybe there is some depth to these characters that I missed. But why should I care? What do I get from a ten minute conversation between Mr. Psychopath and a shopkeeper about the virtues of flipping a coin, or from Tommy Lee Jones' grumbled soliloquies about being an old fart? No Country For Old Men gave me absolutely nothing in terms of entertainment or even basic appeal, and while I hear people talk about how great the writing is or how intense that scene in the hotel was, it's hard to see these good qualities when the movie builds this great big pretentious wall between itself and me.
I guess "hate" would be too strong to describe my feelings for No Country For Old Men. There are definitely movies that have inspired hatred within me, and by its own merits, this isn't one of them. But I still strongly dislike it. What seems to compound my dislike into the wonderful world of hatred is the fact that the known world seems to be collectively falling head-over-heels for this cinematic pile. It reminds me of my feelings towards Dane Cook; if everyone saw Dane Cook for the Rob Schneider-esque hack that he really is, I wouldn't feel so strongly about him. But meanwhile, Dane Cook is selling out stadiums and making movies, and that just makes me want to stick by my guns all the more and embrace my negative feelings like they're the end-all, be-all of my existence.
That's actually the best way to describe the movie: No Country For Old Men is like Dane Cook. Take from that what you will.
I will say this about No Country...there is definitely the seed of a good movie within it. The basic story of Josh Brolin being chased by a giant psychopath after a drug deal goes down the wrong way could have been made into a very good movie. But this isn't it.
My problem with No Country is this: I just didn't care. The film didn't offer anything that appealed to me. There was no one character that I could root for, sympathize with, or even just be impressed by. The only character who came close was the aforementioned psychopath himself, who makes quite an impression when he kills a cop with a cattlegun within the first five or so minutes of the movie. As it turns out, that cattlegun is the only thing that's interesting about the guy. If his weapon of choice was a standard pistol, Mr. Psychopath wouldn't have anything going for him.
In O Brother, Where Art Thou?, a superior film by far, the Coen Brothers colour the movie in a sepia tone in order to evoke the desolate era that was the Great Depression. In No Country, despite its more modern setting, the Coen Brothers apply the sepia tone once more, only they go too far and apply the desolate colour to the characters themselves, making them as dull and uninteresting as possible. Josh Brolin and his beard just keep running and running, while Mr. Psychopath (I don't remember the character's actual name) follows behind with all the intensity of a block of wood, and Tommy Lee Jones and Woody Harrelson spend their time on screen mumbling about something or other in their exaggerated Texan accents. Yahoo.
Within all of this, there's a feeling that there's
There may be some sort of symbolism in its dreariness and its non-ending. Maybe there is some depth to these characters that I missed. But why should I care? What do I get from a ten minute conversation between Mr. Psychopath and a shopkeeper about the virtues of flipping a coin, or from Tommy Lee Jones' grumbled soliloquies about being an old fart? No Country For Old Men gave me absolutely nothing in terms of entertainment or even basic appeal, and while I hear people talk about how great the writing is or how intense that scene in the hotel was, it's hard to see these good qualities when the movie builds this great big pretentious wall between itself and me.
I guess "hate" would be too strong to describe my feelings for No Country For Old Men. There are definitely movies that have inspired hatred within me, and by its own merits, this isn't one of them. But I still strongly dislike it. What seems to compound my dislike into the wonderful world of hatred is the fact that the known world seems to be collectively falling head-over-heels for this cinematic pile. It reminds me of my feelings towards Dane Cook; if everyone saw Dane Cook for the Rob Schneider-esque hack that he really is, I wouldn't feel so strongly about him. But meanwhile, Dane Cook is selling out stadiums and making movies, and that just makes me want to stick by my guns all the more and embrace my negative feelings like they're the end-all, be-all of my existence.
That's actually the best way to describe the movie: No Country For Old Men is like Dane Cook. Take from that what you will.
