Non è un paese per vecchi

An opportunity presents to get rich quick, a stash of cash made up of bills thick as a brick, but your conscience sets a trail, for a reaper to assail, a real psycho, has a vessel with a kick. You start to make a run, but you're tracked down, these pursuers cause a grimace, and a frown, until you spot the hidden tracker, locater for deadly attacker, you make escape, but get injured, as you leave town. Determination keeps the story rolling on, everyone risks, the singing of, their own swan song, the lives of others are ignored, fate, luck, destiny explored, but the bounty counts for nothing, if you're long gone.

Some of the finest cinematic characters you'll encounter.

No Country for Old Men won four Academy Awards in 2007, including Best Picture and Best Director(s). Despite the critical acclaim, the Coen Brother's adaptation of Cormac McCarthy's novel was probably a bit of a head-scratcher to many people.

The film's narrative begins in familiar fashion, introducing you to the main characters and setting up the plot using recognized, established filmic devices. Llewelyn Moss stumbles upon a suitcase filled with cash and wants to keep it for himself. Anton Chigurh is the sociopath who will stop at nothing to get the cash back. Ed Bell is the Sheriff tasked with bringing Chigurh to justice and, it is presumed, keeping Moss and his wife, Carla Jean, from danger. In addition, there's a corporate backer, a hired gun, and a Mexican gang who are also after the cash (i.e., the McGuffin). So much for the usual narrative elements.

When the film continues far beyond the point that the expected narrative structure breaks down, viewers are left to grasp at what the film is actually about. What, if anything, is this film trying to say?

I propose that the film is, among other things, a meditation on the impotence of human and divine systems of justice in light of unflinching, unrelenting, random, radical evil. There are a number of elements in the film that indicate such a meditation, but one need not look much further than the meditations of Sheriff Bell, whose words begin and end the film. Consider:

"There was this boy I sent to the 'lectric chair at Huntsville Hill here a while back. My arrest and my testimony. He killt a fourteen-year-old girl. Papers said it was a crime of passion but he told me there wasn't any passion to it. Told me that he'd been planning to kill somebody for about as long as he could remember. Said that if they turned him out he'd do it again. Said he knew he was going to hell. 'Be there in about fifteen minutes'. I don't know what to make of that. I sure don't. The crime you see now, it's hard to even take its measure."

With these words, the film's "story line" unfolds, with Sheriff Bell trying, and failing, to be effective.

At the end of the film, the retired Sheriff Bell describes a dream to his wife:

"It was like {my father and I} was both back in older times and I was on horseback going' through the mountains of a night. Going' through this pass in the mountains. It was cold and there was snow on the ground and he rode past me and kept on going'. Never said nothing' going' by. He just rode on past... and he had his blanket wrapped around him and his head down and when he rode past I seen he was carryin' fire in a horn the way people used to do and I could see the horn from the light inside of it. 'Bout the color of the moon. And in the dream I knew that he was going' on ahead and he was fixin' to make a fire somewhere out there in all that dark and all that cold, and I knew that whenever I got there he would be there. And then I woke up."

The film is nihilistic in both structure and content. If you would like to force a less despairing ending, Bell's dream could be interpreted as a ray of hope: a light shines in the darkness! On the other hand, it is a dream that he wakes up from.

I don't know what to make of that. I sure don't. But that doesn't mean I can't try.

It was not very long before I watched 'No Country for Old Men' that I watched the other remarkable film of 2007, 'There Will Be Blood.' Back then I thought that Paul Thomas Anderson has delivered the Best Picture of the year with his oil epic, but after watching the Coen brothers chilling and violent adaptation of Cormac McCarthy's 2005 novel, I knew right away that here was a film destined to be even a greater film than any I've seen this past year.

It's not easy to watch 'No Country for Old Men.' The first time I saw it, I found myself dazed enough to not be able to stand-up immediately even after the whole end credits have finished. And yet, mixed with the feeling of shock is the profound sense of wonder and awe with what I have just witnessed on the screen. It took me another viewing to fully appreciate the meaning and intention of the film, and while the experience from watching the film is not one everybody will enjoy and understand, it certainly is one of the most moving and thought-provoking movies I have ever watched. This is the kind of movie that will make you think, the kind that stays with you even after a long time has passed since you've last watched it. On the literal level, it is a simple cat-and-mouse chase thriller movie, but from within its roots lie a very profound philosophical and penetrating analysis not only of the characters and the situations involved in the story, but also of the kind of world we are living in today and the more monstrous sides of it we often choose to ignore.

The story revolves around the chase between a guy named Llewelyn Moss (Josh Brolin,) who stumbles upon a stash of money in a drug deal gone wrong in the middle of the desert and a psychopathic but surprisingly "principled" assassin named Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem). The third party and the moral center of the story is the guy trying to find both the hunter and the hunted, Ed Tom Bell, the old sheriff of a peaceful, but increasingly becoming violent locality in West Texas.

The movie features the perfect mix thrill and excitement that would be expected out of a movie in this genre. The Coen brothers' direction of the particularly intense chase scenes between Chigurh and Moss are masterful, evoking emotions of suspense to the highest level and pushing the audience to the very edge of their seats. This is achieved by very careful editing and sound direction that perfectly recreates the tense atmosphere whenever a particular scene is being played out. Also remarkable is the photography (done by Roger Deakins) of vast scenes in the desert where even what the ordinary moviegoer would consider as "empty scenes", where no action is played out, tells a story in a visual manner, where even when there is no dialogue or action on screen, the sweeping images speak out for themselves.

'No Country for Old Men' is rich in such bravura kind of film-making. The particular camera move, position and choice of background and other trivial details such as time of day, cloud cover or positioning of the props and point-of-view perspective offer the best experience for the audience, and the most effective means of story-telling for the Coen brothers. Just watch the scenes of Tommy Lee Jones as the tormented old sheriff being burdened by the challenge of something that is greater a force than himself, something that he "does not understand," and you will realize what I mean. The environment and tone created by the filmmakers perfectly accentuates the performance of Jones and more importantly, the core messages of the film. This style is present throughout the film and one of the particular points that makes it more than just a chase movie.

I must say that I can't help but agree to most people when they say the Javier Bardem's Anton Chigurh is the most disturbing character (and yet mesmerizing) to grace the screen since Anthony Hopkins introduced us to Hannibal Lecter in 'Silence of the Lambs.' Chigurh effectively radiates evil and embodies violence in a very intelligent and forceful manner that touches the fear in all of us. Like Lecter, he personifies evil not in the conventional and simple sense, but in way that somehow presents to us the whole magnitude and complexity of its nature. In the dialogue he speaks, a kind of thinking revealed is one that is calculating and deeply philosophical but essentially ruthless and sinister.

The film's monumental achievement is in its ability to remarkably transport us into a world where the places, emotions, fears, anxieties, choices, morals and realities of life are strikingly brought to life and presented to us in a manner where we, after the whole experience, can reflect upon and look back with careful consideration. In the end, the moviegoer is left to marvel at the beauty (and madness) of it all. Here the theme of innocence lost as it is corrupted by evil and violence is explored in the most cinematic fashion, delivered perfectly with richness of emotion and the greatest impact possible. The violence and bleakness of it all is not there to simply evoke reaction or engage the audience, it is there to tell a story and impart an experience of great magnitude and intention, to which the Coen brothers have brilliantly succeeded. All at the same time the movie is a character study on the effects of evil and innocence lost, an exploration on the themes of fate and chance, an analysis of the freedom to choose and its consequences, a reflection on evil and good as forces of society and the investigation of basic human emotions such as hope, fear, love, violence and aspiration in the face of a variety of situations.

I don't remember being so scared in a movie theater since "Don't Look Now" Here the Coen Brothers take everything a step further with exhilarating ease. The terror was genuine and not because we were rooting for Josh Brolin or anybody in particular. The terror was personal, Joel and Ethan Coen made that terror visceral and tangible. It has to do with our own nightmares. Josh Brolin was a perfect piece of casting because in a way he doesn't have many personal colors. He's one of the bunch, one of us and we could put ourselves in his shoes. That is the art of film narrative expressed in a way that we've never experienced before. I heard people old enough to have seen Hitchcock's "Psycho" in the theaters and what glued them to the screen was their own fear. Well, that's what I've experienced here. Javier Bardem is superb, considering that he's the reason for the fear. He carries a human/inhuman kind of strength and we know he'll get us, sooner or later and if we consider the ending of the film, he might still do. Worthy Oscar winners, all of it and all of them.

Rural Texas can be hard on anyone, even a rugged and tough Sheriff with a lifetime of exposure to it. No Country for Old Men exemplifies the grit of deep Texas and there's nothing better than a good chase. Tommy Lee Jones as Sheriff Ed Tom Bell balances his dangerous chase for a monster assassin with the equally dangerous chase for a good ole' cowboy that comes down hard on the bad side of some very bad people.

Josh Brolin as Llewelyn Moss finds himself in a dangerous dilemma when he brushes up against a bloodbath of a drug deal gone terribly bad and a satchel with 2 million dollars inside. The man looking for that money is a dispassionate and inexpressive villain, Anton Chigurh played by Javier Bardem. The rest ensues as a thrilling triple narrative, from a determined man with 2 million dollars on the run, only hoping to escape the mess that he stumbled upon, an old man sheriff facing an evil like none he's ever seen, and a psychopathic killer, an unstoppable evil with no remorse and a extraordinary determination to find what is his.

With its blood-soaked scenes, grimy West Texas setting and haunting terror filled moments between characters, No Country for Old Men is both riveting and beautiful. The dialogue is flawlessly delivered and the performances are award worthy. With almost no music in the entire film you're left immersed and focused on how the Coens utilize sounds and silence to score the film. From wind gusts and boot steps on wood floors and concrete, to deafening silence within the dialogue, it's a score that's frightening and precise.

-Eric Statzer