Some of the best TV shows have episodes that are completely unique to the rest of the season, acting as a palette cleanser or a way of spotlighting a character. It’s good to keep things fresh, take a detour on your way to a goal and remind yourself what it’s all about. That’s why I’m throwing this review of No Country for Old Men I wrote into the mix here. Winning the best picture over the likes of Juno and There Will Be Blood in 2007, I consider it one of my favourite and best films ever made.
Converted expertly from Cormac McCarthy’s novel, the Coen Brothers fit the themes, characters and story seamlessly into a two hour film. Part of this is because the story can be summed up in one sentence: Man stumbles across a failed drug deal, takes the money and becomes hunted across the state. It’s simplicity means we’re introduced to everything within 20-30 minutes of the film and the focus can be on atmosphere. We feel the psychotic and threatening aura of Javier Bardem’s character Anton Chigurh the moment he appears on camera, an iconic role in pop culture since and rockets Bardem’s career. Opposingly, we’re subtly shown how Llewelyn Moss acts, a patient tracker calm under pressure, portrayed by Josh Brolin in arguably his first big role also. Coupled with two veteran actors in supporting roles of Tommy Lee Jones and Woody Harrelson, the balance of freshness and reliability is perfect and mirrors the overarching theme.
The main theme of this story, and essentially why it’s called No Country for Old Men, is the passing of the torch from western to neo-western. Always one step behind, Tommy Lee Jones’ sheriff is a man out of time, no longer able to keep up with the ultra violence presented by Chigurh and Moss in response. The “blue eyed blonde haired” cowboys are now relics with good and bad more of a concept than fact, shades of grey being more accurate. This idea is coupled with motifs of chaos & order, with Llewelyn and Anton two sides of the same fateful coin. Moss’ choice of taking the money embroils him in disarray from his relatively ordinary existence. Living by the skin of his teeth, he tries to keep his house and family in check but each decision spirals him further into the abyss. Chigurh is a man created by chaos, making decisions at the flip of the coin. He achieves his goals inevitably as there’s nothing that can affect his plan, his plan is the disorder itself. With this in mind, it aids the story and how it flows as you never know how things will play out. If structured typically, the good guy would be chasing the thief to the ends of the earth, arresting his man and getting the girl to live happily ever after. However, the roles are reversed, and the structure is no longer how the good old days play out. The western is dead, long live the neo-western.
Accompanying the Coen Brothers is legendary cinematographer Roger Deakins, a master of his craft. Lots of movies rely on its soundtrack to convey tone but it’s incredibly limited in this picture, instead relying on the lighting. Dark hues of purple and blue shroud the main characters, hiding in the shadows whilst playing a cat & mouse game. Wide establishing shots of vast, empty desert whilst Tommy Lee Jones monologues, embodying the theme that the western is over. There’s no need for intense music during the shootouts, we can feel the tension within the shadows of each room and amplified by the silence. It’s edge of your seat action, anxious from the unknown and waiting, plunged in darkness.
In summary, the film explores two hard-hitting themes whilst also telling a captivating, tense thriller in two hours. Fantastic performances all round, with Javier Bardem stealing the show and making his character infamous in cinema history.