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The Coen Brothers & Their Malcontents by Doniphan Blair and Haley Seppa
The Coen Brothers: Joel (right), 60, and Ethan, who is 57. photo: courtesy Cohen Brothers
A FEW MONTHS AGO A FILMMAKER
friend of mine, Greg W., launched into a stinging critique of the Coen Brothers:
“Overgrown film students,” he was saying. “Their two-shots are always face-to-face, so they don’t have to worry about crossing the eye line. Then they always push in.”
“Their plots are weak, phony, pretentious stuff, ” he continued, working himself into a lather. Although a devotee of Islam’s tolerant, artistic and mystical side, Sufism, Greg can get quite competitive. “Sufis are also warriors,” is how he explained it to me once.
Although he also sincerely apologized for his strong cinematic opinions, that was after our raging argument, which happened in front of my brother, my sister-in-law and their two children.
Indeed, they stared at us wide-eyed, astounded we could hold such impassioned as well as opposing views on Joel and Ethan Coen, crafters of 18 hybrid indie-commercial films, starting with “Blood Simple” (1985), which they tandemly write, direct and edit—not to forget their third, if slightly quieter, partner, the Oscar-winning actress and beloved everywoman, Francis McDormand (who happens to be Joel’s wife).
“Hold on, Greg!” I finally interrupted, “Have you seen ‘Inside Llewyn Davis’?” (2013).
If my brother or sister-in-law had seen the Coens’ most recent film, I thought, perhaps they would help me convince Greg of its merits.
(Although “Inside” is the Coens’ most recent “full” film, they just scripted Jolie’s “Unbroken”, 2014, and are currently doing ditto for Speilberg’s “Bridge of Spies”, to be released later in 2015.)
The action finally kicks in in 'Inside Llewyn Davis', as Llewyn (Oscar Isaac) takes reluctant custody of a cat. photo: courtesy Cohen Brothers
“No-ooo, I haven’t,” Greg pronounced, with evident pride, “but I can easily imagine what it’s like: boooo-ring, a boring film about a boring, screwed up musician who is oh-so-artistic.”
Although “Inside Llewyn Davis” is not one of them, the Coens have crafted many crossover, if minor (in Hollywood terms), hits, notably “True Grit” (2010, $252M), their soulful remake of John Wayne’s vehicle with Jeff “Big Lebowski” Bridges in his stead, and “No Country of for Old Men” (2007, $176M), with its underbelly-of-America story, which set the stage for the runaway TV show, “Breaking Bad” (2008-2013).
(Note: Box offices figures averaged from multiple sources.)
Of course, there’s also “The Big Lebowski” (1998, $46M), now a Saturday midnight movie with its own cult, and “Fargo” (1996 $60M), for which Ms. McDormand won her Academy Award, and quite a few others like “Raising Arizona” (1987, $29M), “O Brother, Where Art Thou?” (2000, $72M) and “Burn After Reading” (2008, $161M).
Alas, “Inside Llewyn Davis”, about a cranky singer-songwriter with a fantastic sound, but which didn’t quite catch the ear of early ‘60s audiences or record people, was not that popular. It grossed only $32M, although that did amply cover its $11M budget, as most Coen films, which are often made for under $10M, do.
Sure, it got two Oscar nominations, albeit in sound and cinematography only, the Film of the Year Award from LA’s American Film Institute and a 96% Top Critics rating from Rotten Tomatoes. The thing is: “Inside” was kind of slow—almost radically so.
After its punch-in-the–face opening—literally, when the eponymous Llewyn, inhabited to the hilt by Oscar Isaac, gets his teeth kicked in—that’s exactly what I was thinking. Even Joel Cohen admitted as much: "’There's not much of a plot [to the film] and that's a challenge.’"
'Inside Llewyn Davis' could not be more different then 'No Country for Old Men', although they both concerned protagonists named Llewyn who didn't quite make it. photo: courtesy Coen Brothers
"’We've done things that are very heavily plotted,’” he continued last year, to the Hollywood Reporter (12/6/13). “’In the middle of this [film] we were going, 'Well, what is this? It's really a very discrete period of time, a slice into which nothing much happens, so how do you drive the narrative?'’"
When Isaac starts singing and playing the guitar—masterfully but in a very odd manner—AND the filmmakers insist on sticking by his strange tunefulness to the song’s end, I started to get antsy, annoyed even. “What sort of crap is this?” I was thinking, perhaps agreeing with Greg’s assessment of the film he didn’t bother to see. (Check some songs out: "Hang Me, Oh Hang Me" or "The Last Thing on My Mind").
At some point, however, perhaps when Llewyn (what a name!) ends up with the orange cat he tried to save and return to its owners (it wasn’t theirs), a plot device added by the Coens to give the film some structure, or when the film plays its second AND then third song (all the way through), or when Llewyn ends up in Chicago meeting a producer played by the demonic F. Murray Abraham, “Inside” soaked sufficiently into my synapses to realize:
The Coens are conjuring a completely alternate ‘60s here, while simultaneously shouting volumes on art, culture creation and the luck of the game as well as the ‘60s, whose aesthetics and issues keep haunting us.
“WRONG!” I interrupted Greg again, now almost shouting myself, so determined was I to bring Greg's profound misunderstanding of modern film to a quick close lest my nephew and niece, impressionable 13 and 16 year-olds respectively, get the wrong idea about the Coen Brothers.
“An unparalleled masterpiece!” I belted out, luxuriating in the fury rising—despite his Sufism—in Greg’s eyes.
“A tour-de-force investigation into an artist who was a brilliant singer and songwriter—the Coens created those incredible songs with the songwriter T Bone Burnett—but, due to a couple of quirks of fate, didn’t make it. It’s a major contribution to American culture.”
George Clooney's character in 'O Brother, Where Art Thou", seems like a sleazy con but rises into a Coen-patented protagonist: The Spaced-out (rather than anti-) Hero. photo: courtesy Cohen Brothers
The Coens have an uncanny way of subtly turning our expectations of story and character completely on their heads. When we think of a hero, typically, it is a strong, noble or brave person working hard to make it, generally for the benefit of their family or community or even strangers, a notion reinforced endlessly in commercial cinema.
Coen Brothers protagonists, however, often have characteristics generally considered shortcomings but which also serve as excellent entry points into their character. By examining these eccentricities, the Coens have created a new definition of hero.
Take “O Brother, Where Art Thou?” Based on its opening scenes, you might expect to see the sheriff, or the mistakenly-convicted guy, as the hero. Wrong! Instead, we get the seemingly shallow and slick-talking Ulysses Everett McGill, played by George Clooney. Although an escaped convict on the run, his biggest concern seems to be his preferred hair product, Dapper Dan.
While Greg would trash McGill‘s concerns as a ridiculous affectation, by contrasting it with the rural reality of 1930s South, well-depicted throughout the movie, the viewer is compelled to consider that their own obsessions might be a bit ridiculous—but also part of who they are.
In the beginning of “The Big Lebowski”, we have a barren landscape and “way out west” narration, apparently prepping us for the arrival of the classical western hero. But that notion collapses completely in the person of “The Dude”—in a career-making turn for acting-dynasty-descendent Jeff Bridges.
As the narrator slow-drawls that The Dude is “the man for his time and place,” the camera tracks through an over-lit supermarket to find him, in robe and slippers, shuffling up to a cold case and opening and drinking from a carton of half-and-half.
The Coens’ spaced-out, if not anti-, hero theme is reinforced by The Dude’s inveterate pot-smoking and pacifism, and his desire to earn a living outside the nine-to-five—completely out of synch with the neon-lit Los Angeles of the 1990s.
Such dichotomies—of that we expect versus what we actually see, and between the environment and the protagonist—creates the tension driving us to see the hero in unexpected ways, a quality enhanced by supporting Coen characters, like John Goodman who plays the crazy in quite a few of their films.
The Oscar-winning actress and everywoman, as well as Joel Cohen's wife, Francis McDormand, ready to kick some serious ass in the seriously funny noir-comedy 'Fargo' (1996). photo: courtesy Cohen Brothers
It started with “Raising Arizona”, their third, where Goodman was Nicolas Cage’s escaped con buddy. More recently, in “Inside”, he’s the mean-spirited jazz musician who joins Llewyn on a road trip to Chicago and ends up collapsing from a heroin overdose.
In “The Big Lebowski”, Goodman is The Dude’s Vietnam-vet best friend who pulls a gun over a small disagreement. But the Dude deals with it peacefully, exhibiting levels of relaxation that in turn become heroic.
This quality is also mirrored in “O Brother,” through McGill/Clooney’s most eccentric quality, aside from obsession with pomade: his extraordinary vocabulary, which contrasts pointedly with those around him.
We see similar divergences in “Fargo”, now a television show on FX. Showrun by Noah Hawley, who is better known as a writer, it stars Alison Tolman as the woman cop and Billy Bob Thorton as the the evil doer.
"Fargo", the film, is a noir-comedy, police procedural centering on Marge Gunderson, Ms. McDormand’s sweet, sensible and very pregnant cop—the complete opposite of many of the Coens’ other films as well as "Fargo"'s only other female character, the kidnapped and injured but obnoxious and annoying wife.
Comedic reversal and mirroring is another Coen trope my filmmaker friend Greg would take them to task for. But done right, it becomes classical filmmaking, allowing Joel and Ethan to illuminate their take on American culture, a view they pushed to severe as well as sophisticated levels in “Inside Llewyn Davis” and “No Country for Old Men” (2007), where the supposed hero (Josh Brolin) is also named Llewyn! But “No Country” is not so much about a hero but a clarion call for new heroes, not coincidentally the precise type the Coens trade in.
Alas, despite his immense effort, the West Texas Llwelyn can not save his girlfriend (Kelly MacDonald) from the relentlessly evil but eerily attractive hit man (Javier Bardem) even with the assistance of an expert, retiring cop (Tommy Lee Jones). This is the problem with serial killers, radical religions and many politicians, they too evolve over time and get more creative.
There is really no joking around with Javier Bardem's character, Anton Chigurh, in 'No Country'. photo: courtesy Coen Brothers
Unlike “Breaking Bad”, which proved American ingenuity could beat The Cartel at its own game AND that evil is going down in the end, the good guys don’t do well in “No Country”. Its relentless and realist descent into the completely corrupt, killing fields of the South-West, that Cormick McCarthy has been conjuring for 40 years, does not even have a stitch of musical relief to the endless atrocity and only a poetic ending to put everything in perspective.
“No Country” and especially “Breaking Bad” become so popular because we need new narratives to address the tough breaking issues of our day. Although many women loved them, many more men (especially young) were smitten to the core as they tried to work out if, when push came to 45 in your face, they were a Heisenberg or a Jessie, a Llewyn or an Anton Chigurh (Bardem’s character).
The New York Llewyn is hardly evil. Although he can be a complete ass, sleeping with his friend’s wife (he does pay for her abortion) or letting his host’s cat slip out the door (he tries mightily to retrieve the prodigal tabby), he was certainly no more narcissistic than many artists navigating difficult times.
Indeed, the consummate quality of “Inside” is a point that it fully shows, rather than tells—made absolutely clear upon sitting through the film's second or third full length performance by Oscar Isaac of one of T Bone Burnett's tunes: Llewyn Davis is a musician of extremely elevated ability, the "other" Bob Dylan.
Alas, amidst his many problems, Llewyn doesn’t tread lightly enough or come up with enough creative solutions. And, sure enough, on the road to Chicago with crazed junkie Goodman, everything falls apart and he comes to kill, or least think he has, the very cat that represents his entire gossamer-winged enterprise.
And so “Inside Llewlyn Davis” not stands in not only for the entire ‘60s, when a lot was created and even more opportunities lost, but today, when the culture is even more about money and fear and the need new heroes and narratives just as desperate.
On 'Inside''s ill-fated road trip, shortly after Goodman's crazed musician character asks Isaac's Llewyn if he remembered to bring his dick along, as well as the cat. photo: courtesy Coen Brothers
Perhaps this is what so annoys my dear friend Greg W. He already has an evolved narrative, Sufism, to deal with life’s difficult problems. But in America, movies are our church and, instead of established dogma, our preachers are asking questions, making up answers, and basing new stories on what they discover.
The Coens’ next full feature is “Hail, Caesar!” about actors doing a sandal-and-toga play in the 1920s. Reprising previous Coen stars Josh Brolin, George Clooney, while adding Channing Tatum and Ralph Fiennes, it is due in 2016.
Doniphan Blair is a writer, film magazine publisher, designer and filmmaker ('Our Holocaust Vacation'), who can be reached .
Haley Seppa is a filmmaker, photographer, and eternal lover of learning, who can be reached . Posted on Mar 25, 2015 - 01:45 AM