#thebloglebowski

[dirtyrottencook]

Barton Fink

* The Blog Lebowski *

The Coen’s fourth feature is the first (and perhaps the only overall, except maybe for Inside Llewyn Davis (2013)) to have a main character that isn’t an everyman. To be sure, all of their other leads always manage to wind up in a crazy story with often hilarious circumstances and a wildly eccentric cast of supporting characters, but at the core they are simple people, typically without any grand aspirations or notions of themselves. Cops, ex-cons, businessmen, bowlers. Even Norville Barnes, Tim Robbins’ plucky young upstart in The Hudsucker Proxy (1994) who becomes famous and rich is little more than a boy from Indiana who’s out of his depth.

Barton Fink shatters that mold. The eponymous film begins with him bursting into success in the very first scene, done with that tone of dread one can come to expect from the brothers. Later in the film, Fink expresses the belief that inner pain is necessary for artistic creation to occur. True to this idea, he never appears happy, triumphant maybe, but not happy, even when being invited on stage to thunderous applause in the film’s opening. Throughout, the character (equally indebted to the Coen’s pitch-perfect writing and Turturro’s aloofness and subtle, pervasive impatience) would always rather be writing, or at least talking about writing. He is standoffish to the point that the other characters dominate the first half of the film, and with the cast stacked the way it is, that’s a treat.

And then that...event, a little more than halfway through the film. I was unprepared for that. 

[Sidebar: I have to stop and wonder what people thought when seeing this movie (and seeing that scene) upon its initial release, having no idea of what to expect. (Follow the rabbit hole on this one with me?)]

One of my favorite aspects of Coen Brothers films is the unpredictability. I’m a narrative junky; I can appreciate all types of art, but story is perhaps my favorite. This practice we have been engaging in since the dawn of time resonates with me. Most stories have been done, or at least their type has been done, often enough that we have a pretty good idea what kind of arc the narrative will take. Not so with the Coen Brothers. And that feeling, almost like fear, of having no idea what will happen next, is exhilarating. This twist, if you want to call it that, throws out this notion that we are watching a simple tale about one man’s journey to write something of meaning. And it only gets weirder from there. 

Highlights:

1. As always, the eclectic cast of characters, and the incredible actors portraying them, steal the show. In particular, John Mahoney is a standout at William Faulkner-type author with all the trappings of the artistic soul.

2. That twist. 

3. The ending. With a film that gets as weird and intense as this one does, the ending easily could have been botched. Luckily for us, the Coens come through. Is it a happy ending? Sorta. Does Fink succeed in what he set out to do? Yes and no. I can say with certainty however that it was the right ending to all that strange that came before.

Ranking:

With a little more perspective, I’m going to rearrange my previous ruling: Raising Arizona was wild and zany and a blast, but the more I think on it, the more it feels that Miller’s Crossing was just a tighter, better crafted film. 

And where does Barton Fink fit in? It’s not easy. Regardless of ranking, the film on its own is not easy. Its oddity and unpredictability go a long way though.

1. Miller’s Crossing

2. Barton Fink

3. Raising Arizona

4. Blood Simple

[dirtyrottencook]

Miller’s Crossing

* The Blog Lebowski *

If the Coens took screwball comedy and blended it through their warped minds to create Raising Arizona, a film very much stamped with their likeness, then Miller’s Crossing follows the same pattern but more closely adheres to the genre (neo-noir thriller this time) than their twisted sensibilities. Don’t take that as a knock though, because this is one damn good film.

Now, I love originality. I love the feeling of seeing something new and fresh, being surprised at the unexpected, appreciating the inventiveness required to find a path that has not been taken. But we’ve been storytelling since the moment we were able, painting on a cave wall so that others might know what we had seen; it’s in our collective DNA. With such a rich history and lore, there’s nothing wrong with telling a story that’s been told before. Hell, Shakespeare’s audience, even the lower classes, all knew the stories ahead of time. 

What separates a simple re-tread from a worthwhile experience though lies in the craft. Yes, the plots were common knowledge, but Shakespeare’s mastery of his craft—the written word, and dialog in particular—was the real show. (I don’t really know squat about Shakespeare, so feel free to correct.) 

With Miller’s Crossing, the Coens’ craft is, for the first time in their filmography, front and center, and it’s wonderful to behold. The very first scene [spoiler alert] is the pebble starting the avalanche, the film consisting of that first conflict slowly swelling, writ large and dark and funny and sprawling. 

Sure, on its surface it’s a gangster flick set during the Prohibition, but that’s merely the framework for a tapestry of characters, each unique, in the truest sense of the word.

There’s Eddie the Dane and Mink, but also Mink and Bernie, whose sister is Verna, Tom’s lover. Now Tom works for Leo, but is smarter than everyone, including Johnny Casper, the hot-headed rival and employer of Eddie the Dane, who truly hates Tom. Against Tom’s advice, Leo courts Verna, the consequences of which start a war. And that is quite a bit of craft, of course aided by a perfect cast. 

[Sidebar: Not to idolize them or anything, but in almost every on of their films there’s an intangible feeling that they got the best out of their actors, each one cast in the perfect roll. The average filmgoer probably doesn’t think too much about casting, about the way a role could be a custom-made suit or dress, or any other non-gendered garment, for an actor. By not only directing but also writing every one of their features, they are free to be in control from start to finish, creating roles for actors in which they can excel. Or at least that’s how it seems to be. Jeff Bridges IS the Dude; Frances McDormand IS Margie Gunderson; JAVIER BARDEM IS ANTON CHIGURH.] 

Highlights:

1. The slang. Knowing the Coen Brothers, it’s accurate, but also difficult enough to give it a good amount of rewatchability (is that a thing?). As you get to understand it better, you also appreciate the writing more, which never hurts.

2. The cast. Everyone shines in this film. Albert Finney with a Tommy gun and a cigar hanging out his mouth while his house burns down. Marcia Gay Harden rocking a diamond-sharp wit right before throwing a wicked punch to put Gabriel Bryne in his place. John Turturro watching his fortunes rise and fall in an instant.

Ranking:

It was a close one, but I personally think the oddity and the originality of Raising Arizona trumped the craftsmanship of Miller’s Crossing.

1. Raising Arizona

2. Millers Crossing

3. Blood Simple

Up Next: Barton Fink

[dirtyrottencook]

Raising Arizona

* The Blog Lebowski *

Let us start where the movie starts, with its opening. You can watch it here, though I highly recommend following it up with the rest of the film. It brings to mind the opening of Up (2009) in that both sequences function not only as prologues but fully capable short films in their own right.

[Sidebar: It was at this point in the writing that the situation devolved into me weepily watching the opening to Up whilst sipping a gin cocktail at midnight on a Thursday, alone on the couch.]

Now, as a small biographical note, when it comes to storytelling I generally disregard the short form (short stories, poetry, short films, etc.) and generally swoon over the long form (feature films, novels, serialized television, etc). I chalk it up to my appetite: I’m a glutton; short form storytelling just doesn’t leave me satisfied. But, as a lover of art, I respect all forms, so long as they are well done. (Here’s looking at you, kid.) And the opening to both films are very well done short narrative films.

That respect comes from the extreme economy needed when working within such a limited space. Every shot, every word, every second must count, must in some way serve the story; there is zero room for the superfluous. As a writer, I recognize that it takes quite a measure of skill, and the Coens put it on display. Nicolas Cage’s Southern drawl fits perfectly as the narrator, we learn about HI and Ed, and despite the ridiculous nature of their union, I believe it. That is the definition of economic storytelling: opposites to lovers in a few minutes. And it’s not merely covering plot, but emotional investment, because [spoiler alert] I found myself truly caring that Ed is barren, and found myself wanting happiness for them.

And it’s only after all this that we finally get the beautiful title card swooping in:

As you can see, I could ramble indefinitely about how much I loved this movie. To spare you, let’s just say that it is a pristine example of the Coens’ practice of taking a well-established genre (the screwball comedy in this case) and throwing in enough oddity and originality to keep it recognizably one of their own. 

Highlights: 

1. Nicolas Cage’s hair. I don’t feel I need to expound on this.

2. John Goodman’s prison escape. He emerges from the rain-soaked earth, roaring like a freed lion, only to dive back in and wrench forth his fellow escapee. It is ridiculous and wonderful and fitting. It’s strange to think that until I started to branch out and watch a wider selection of film, I only ever thought of him as the dad from Rosanne.

3. That chase scene. It comes halfway through the film and has sublime banjo/western yodeling blanketing it from start to finish. It showcases the Coens’ flair for physical comedy and extended choreography. And true to the rules of Comedy, there is no real danger. Yes, there are guns firing throughout, but it comes off more like a game of tag than running from the police, and all parties emerge (relatively) unscathed.

Ranking:

It was no contest. 

1. Raising Arizona

2. Blood Simple

Up Next: Miller’s Crossing

[dirtyrottencook]

Blood Simple

* The Blog Lebowski *

The evolution of an artist is a beautiful thing to watch, regardless of the medium. It gives meaning to a body of work, makes more than the sum of its parts. If an artist changes and grows, then each piece gives the others context, all of them strung together to create an autobiographical narrative about an individual’s (or duo’s) journey. In contrast, Michael Bay’s films (the epitome of ‘love-to-hate’ for critics) are all so similar that one would never know what came first; from Bad Boys (1995) to the undesired Transformers 5 (2017, couldn’t give a shit what the title ends of up being), it’s been one loud, prolonged explosion with nothing to differentiate one moment from the next.

Blood Simple is very clearly at the beginning of the Coen’s evolution. Aside from being over 30 years old and looking it, there are many seeds to what later become hallmarks of their work: the long, taut slow pan; an unseen villain with ill intent heard approaching the room in which a character waits, silent and motionless (used to great affect in Miller’s Crossing and No Country for Old Men); bright bursts of violence; casual amorality; bleak humor. 

But here, unlike later in their career, it all feels rougher, less assured. The characters often make dumb decisions, but instead of the buffoonish comedy they wring out of so many other idiots to come, it comes off as frustrating. In particular, Ray, the not-quite-main character, is wildly inept at dealing with (among other things) a corpse that turns out to be alive. The more mature Brothers would either just make him capable or mine it for some dark laughs (like using a wood chipper maybe?).

[Sidebar: I love how, on occasion, there isn’t a true main character. Or rather, the main character is the wild story they are unraveling. I’m thinking Fargo, Burn After Reading. They don’t sacrifice ‘character’ as an idea, just the main character]

Then we also have some of the questionable shot choices: repeated lingering takes of ceiling fans or the seemingly incriminating lighter left behind by Visser, the private eye, that come off as too deliberate and obvious. And there is the dated score with its overly ominous warning tones. They are not glaring flaws, but in light of what the Coens are capable of, it brings to mind a Twain quote: “The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug.” 

Which brings us back to the idea of an artist’s evolution. Knowing what comes later, knowing about context, creates understanding. I’m more willing to forgive any flaws in Blood Simple because I understand that it was a stepping stone, it allowed the Coen Brothers to learn. Though this also, for me at least, raises the question of the film’s initial critical reception. Yes, it was good, but I believe a lot of my respect for it comes from its place amongst all the others, for what it represents in relation to the rest of the Coen Brothers filmography. Then again, I’ll never know what it was like to see the film without any preconceived notions.

Highlights: 

1. All nitpicking aside, the climax was superb. My entire opinion of the movie changed with the last twenty minutes or so. The tension spends the whole film simmering, but so quietly one begins to think the boiling over will be coy. When it does go, all bets are off. (Is it necessary to be vague and spoiler-free with a 30+ year old movie?) It goes from zero to ninety in a matter of moments; my two viewing companions and I spent the rest of the movie whispering “what the fuck..?” or loudly groaning in gleeful disgust. 

2. M. Emmet Walsh. He’s fantastic and the ultimate Coen Brothers Wild Card. Probably crazy, but in a restrained, functioning way. He does the unexpected and is wholly self-interested. Also that voice. And those mutton chops.

Ranking:

As we progress, I will rank the films against each other. (In the slightly-paraphrased words of one of my viewing companions, “Everything deserves to be a bitter competition.”) 

Up Next: Raising Arizona

[dirtyrottencook]

* The Blog Lebowski *

A few friends and I are going through the Coen Brothers’ films, one by one. This fella here (another good friend of mine) has done a few different series of posts (// Scrapbook Enterprise // for Star Trek & // Legends Revisited // for the the novels in the Star Wars EU) and I’m going to take a page out of his book, or several.

For too long I haven’t used my tumblr so much as I’ve used my dashboard. It’s yet another feed to scroll through and distract myself from any number of other, more important endeavors.

‘NO MORE!’ cries the fool-hardy procrastinate.

In case you haven’t been following my other project (I mean, seriously, how could you not? [that’s sarcasm. honestly, you should have better things to do.]), I now have a more regular schedule, which helps with these types of undertakings. I’ll be gracing you with my thoughts on the films these weird siblings have cooked up, all in chronological order. You can follow allow with #TheBlogLebowski

UP FIRST: Blood Simple