In Theaters Sep 12 2008 @ 12:10 am

REVIEW: Burn After Reading

By Evan Derrick
United States, 2008
Directed By: Joel Coen & Ethan Coen
Written By: Joel Coen & Ethan Coen
Starring: George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Frances McDormand, John Malkovich, Tilda Swinton, Richard Jenkins
Running Time: 96 minutes
Rated R for pervasive language, some sexual content, and violence
(out of 5 stars)

“Coen Brothers” is a certifiable genre, even if there are only 2 people who can make films in it. Whether screwball comedy or neo-noir or gangster or stoner or western, each of their genre-bending films managed to retain the unique Coen hallmarks: quirky characters, idiosyncratic dialogue, vivid regionalism, and a hyper-sensitive balance between comedy and tragedy. Their consistency of vision, beginning in 1984 with the low-budget Blood Simple, is astounding; how many other directors can claim a distinct style that has been preserved over the course of 12 (now 13) films and 24 years?

In Burn After Reading, the Coens may be ostentatiously toying with the espionage thriller (the kind of dogeared paperback novel you might wile away a day at the beach with), but the film is unmistakably genre ala Coen. They have, yet again, crafted a film that no one else could have possibly made.

Many of the Coen regulars are back in an ensemble that rivals the one they put together for The Big Lebowski. Frances McDormand (5 Coen roles), George Clooney (2 roles), Richard Jenkins (2), and JK Simmons (1) are joined by Coen virgins Brad Pitt, John Malkovich, and Tilda Swinton. Set amidst the imposing backdrop of Washington D.C., with monuments and embassies conspicuously hovering over the characters like darkly disapproving intelligence gods, Burn After Reading involves the tell-all memoirs of an ex-CIA spook (Malkovich) falling into the hands of a can-do fitness instructor (McDormand) who desperately needs $40,000 worth of plastic surgery. When she goes fishing for a “reward,” things spiral out of control as desperate people make increasingly desperate decisions, ultimately destroying their lives in the process.

Chad Feldheimer has a bad day.
Chad Feldheimer has a bad day.

But the memoirs are just the MacGuffin. They propel the story along but are superfluous to the Coens’ major obsession: breathing life into characters that, like Tommy Johnson in O Brother Where Art Thou?, they must have sold their soul to the devil to be able to create. The moment one of their creations steps on screen it is fully realized, unique, unmistakable: Malkovich’s jilted, booze swilling spook; Clooney’s sex-addled federal marshal with a Home Depot card and a will (which results in one of the film’s funniest – and most startling – moments); McDormand’s uber-optimist who equates plastic surgery with redemption; Jenkins’ sad-sack ex-priest who inspires genuine sympathy; and the scene stealer, Pitt’s exercise enthusiast with too little brain and too much arrested development. Each actor brings just the right amount of manic energy, flirting with parody but never succumbing to it.

While there is plenty of humor to be found in Burn After Reading, ignore the marketing. Probably due to no fault of their own (how do you adequately describe the Coens’ flavor in 30 seconds?), the marketing department has pitched this as an eccentric comedy of errors. After the screening, I re-watched the trailer: scenes that were horrifying in the film were played for yuks in the trailer. Taken out of context they appeared humorous, but in the darkened theater I wasn’t laughing. This has as much to do with personal taste as it does the brothers’ omnipresent balancing act between humor and pathos; Pitt’s valley girl shtick is consistently funny, but when it’s paired with brutal violence and Carter Burwell’s brilliant but unambiguously foreboding score, you’re not sure how to feel. Are you supposed to be laughing? Grimacing? Crying? Maybe all three at the same time? With the Coens, those are rhetorical questions; A, B, C, and D are all correct.

George Clooney as Harry Pfarrer, an oversexed federal marshal.
George Clooney as Harry Pfarrer, an oversexed federal marshal.

In tone and execution Burn most closely resembles Fargo (sometimes a little too much); the humor doesn’t lie on the surface in broad strokes (as in Raising Arizona) but remains deeply embedded in the characters. Some will respond instantly, but for others it can take multiple viewings and an intimate familiarity with Coens’ children before the innate humor is fully appreciated. More so than any other filmmakers working today, the Coens reward repeat visits.

As in No Country For Old Men and many of their other films, the brothers have mocked standard movie structure; the plot never proceeds predictably (their double-edged sword), and Robert McKee would keel over from all the brazen rule breaking. If you’re expecting a nicely tied bow, look elsewhere; in some cases, major character developments happen entirely off-screen, relayed by two men in a concrete room. No, Burn After Reading is best enjoyed as a fine wine: sipping, sniffing, savoring, nursing. Spending 90 odd minutes with figments of the Coens’ imagination, listening to lines of pure wit, and marveling at their storytelling audacity is where the real pleasure lies.

20 Responses to “Burn After Reading”

  1. on Sep 12 2008 @ 8:58 am 1. Luke Harrington said …

    FOUR STAR REVIEW. Yeah, that’s right, Graham — what are you gonna do now??

  2. on Sep 12 2008 @ 12:10 pm 2. Craig Kennedy said …

    This is the first review of the movie I’ve let myself read and it’s a good one.

    It sounds like we found similar things appealing (particularly Jenkins), though I laughed more than I was horrified…(but then I’m the guy who giggled through A Clockwork Orange).

    I didn’t have the energy to get into it in my own review, but I’ve been trying for years to crystalize what it is about the Coens that are so funny to some people. As I was thinking about what to say regarding their latest, I began to think that they may have invented their own unique style of humor. It’s not joke or plot based, but it’s an amalgam of details and of character quirks. It’s in the sound of their words rather than punchlines…though they do have literal jokes. Oz’s Mormon crack in the opening was one of my favorites.

    I don’t know. I’m kind of rambling here. Anyway, love the Coens. Loved the movie. I’ll be curious to see if it gets better upon repeat viewings like their other classics.

  3. on Sep 12 2008 @ 3:10 pm 3. Rick Olson said …

    So, Evan … what are the distinguishing characteristics of the “Coen Style” or genre? (nice review, btw. Restores my faith in the brothers C)

  4. on Sep 12 2008 @ 3:53 pm 4. Evan Derrick said …

    Rick, this is what I wrote way back during our Coen month on the brothers auteur:

    “Each of their films showcases idiosyncratic writing, atypical characters, loving homage to genre, obsession with abstract symbolism, loyalty to specific actors, self-reference, and ethnographic regionalism.”

    Just as you’re constantly aware of watching a “comedy” during any of Apatow’s films, or an “action flick” during any of John Woo’s, you’re completely conscious during each of their films that they are “Coen” films.

  5. on Sep 12 2008 @ 8:37 pm 5. Rick Olson said …

    I think you’re on the money, but I’m interested in how visual style supports thematic concerns. Are there any elements of visual style that you would call typical?

  6. on Sep 12 2008 @ 11:32 pm 6. Craig Kennedy said …

    Are you speaking specifically about the Coen’s visual style Rick?

    If so, I would argue that it’s hard to pin down and it changes from film to film depending on their chosen cinematographer.

    But I fear I’m not addressing your issue…

  7. on Sep 13 2008 @ 12:09 am 7. Phillip Johnston said …

    I enjoyed this very much and after processing it for about an hour, I think I’m landing on a 3.5/5 rating. The opening scene is one of the Coen’s best openers (”You’re a Mormon — you think everyone has a drinking problem!”) and I was almost nauseous with laughter by the time it was over, but compared to some of their other comedies, the lulls between these inspired moments were much longer.

    Like you said: their delicate balance of absurd hilarity and pathos is extremely evident here especially in the handling of Richard Jenkins’ character. Love that guy.

    And I’m pretty sure I called the ending from the time JK Simmons’ character was introduced. I love the Coen’s whole-heartedly, but their endings are becoming all the same to me (ex. character complains about the craziness of what just happened, character sighs, character bemoans how they’ll never understand it, movie ends).

    Anyone else noticing this pattern? If so, what do you think of it?

  8. on Sep 13 2008 @ 12:10 am 8. joel said …

    Great review, Evan. I especially appreciated how you pointed out that the plotting and narrative violates a variety of screenwriting “rules.” I hadn’t thought about it until you pointed it out, but you’re right.

    I forgot to bring this up over at Living in Cinema, but…

    (SPOILER, SPOILER, SPOILER)

    What is it with the Coen Brothers and head wounds? Whether it’s a character taking a bullet in the face or just being pounded in the noggin, the Coen Brothers seem to love hitting people upside the head. Too literal a comment I suppose or just that next to groin hits, being smacked, shot, or punched in the face is one of the most equally shocking and funny things one can capture on film? When Brad Pitt takes a bullet to the face, I was fully expecting something along those lines and yet it was equal parts hilarious and shocking when it actually happened, a combination of his moronic “How ya doing?” smile and the sudden violent response. Only the Coens can repeatedly get away with playing something so vicious for laughs and making it funny to boot.

    (END SPOILER, END SPOILER)

    Great review, Evan. I’m a little surprised at how you warmed up to Burn After Reading though. I know the Coen Brothers don’t always rub you the right way with their films.

  9. on Sep 13 2008 @ 12:18 am 9. joel said …

    Just saw your comment Phillip and I’d need you to back it up with some examples. Other than the obvious one (No Country) I don’t think that it’s as common as you suggest, but I agree that they have used that motif to comment on the absurd human nature they have portrayed in the past.

    I suppose one could quantify the Marge/Gaear Grimsrud scene in the police car and the closing line from Raising Arizona this way, possibly even the ending of Big Lewbowski. Not sure about the rest, or that it matters much to me anyway.

    With the Coens, it’s never the ending but the journey and the characters along the way that I appreciate most. No matter what happens in their films, I always expect that those characters (the survivors at least) will go on to other adventures anyway. They’re too intimately detailed and explored not to.

  10. on Sep 13 2008 @ 3:45 pm 10. Craig Kennedy said …

    I’m liking this movie more and more the longer I’m away from it.

  11. on Sep 14 2008 @ 8:57 am 11. Evan Derrick said …

    Craig, I think a lot of the Coens humor has to do with laughing at things that aren’t inherently funny because you have no idea how to react otherwise. It’s like Sheriff Bell says in No Country, when he tells his deputy that story about the naked guy in the dog collar fleeing the murderous couple: “Sometimes there’s nothing to do but laugh.” Perhaps that is along the lines of what you were talking about?

    Rick, the Coens often favor low angles, placing their characters in a position of dominance. In No Country, this makes Chigurh feel like some kind of dark god; he’s always standing over the camera, looking down at it, judging it, in power over it and the audience. In Burn, however, it has a different effect. The Coens do the same thing with many of their characters, but this time they’re all dimwits, so the low angles are ironic. The film treats them like they’re espionage masters, outsmarting and doublecrossing with the best of them (the camera angles support this), but it’s obvious that they have no clue what they’re doing.

    A second technique that supports their thematic interests is their editing. They often use editing as a punchline.

    (SPOILERS!)

    For ex., we see Malkovich hatcheting Jenkin’s character, and then we CUT to JK Simmons saying, “A hatchet, huh?” (I know that isn’t exactly how the scene played out…I’m paraphrasing their technique). This compliments their dance between the thematic concerns of humor and horror; because they cut away, rather than linger, you’re not sure if you should be horrified or if you should be laughing. Yes, Jenkins being hatcheted in the head is horrid, but rather than dwell on it (like Kubrick would) they cut to a dopey CIA director commenting on it after the fact. Do you grimace at the violence? Or do you laugh at the “punchline” the Coens are delivering to you with their editing? So, there you have an example of visual style complementing thematic concerns (hopefully I’ve explained myself well enough).

    (END SPOILERS)

    Phillip, I think I’m with Joel on the ending: yes, it felt eerily familiar to their “pull the rug out from under the audience” ending in No Country, but I’m not sure there are a lot of other examples of that in their films.

    And Joel, I have no idea why they’re obsessed with head violence. But that theme is certainly present in their films.

  12. on Sep 14 2008 @ 1:02 pm 12. joel said …

    I’m guessing the noggin violence thing is just a visual shorthand they enjoy. They’ve done a great job of using it over and over again and never appearing repetitious.

    Evan, I like your comments about their use of low angles and editing, but I’d have to go back and rewatch their films to see how commonplace this is in their earlier work (or to see how its used). I can only assume you were either aware of this from the beginning or became aware of it when you recently went through their entire filmography, Evan? I’d be curious to hear more, if you don’t mind?

  13. on Sep 14 2008 @ 10:38 pm 13. Phillip Johnston said …

    I don’t think the point is that they “pull the rug”, but that many of their movies reach the exact same conclusion and tend to do so in the same manner.

    Fargo: Marge talks to Peter Stormare’s character in the car about how pointless everything is and how she’ll never understand it.

    The Man Who Wasn’t There: Thornton’s character sees the flying saucer and eloquently monologues about how he’ll never understand why what happens happens. This ending is a bit more hopeful than…

    <iNCFOM: Self-explanatory.

    Burn After Reading: Same type of thing with the same kind of two-person setup as NCFOM. Its becoming the same old nihilistic shtick to me.

    Don’t get me wrong, I liked the movie. But this is the first time that the Coen’s worldview really got under my skin and sort of made me disappointed. Not that they believe all these things (lots of people do), but that they feel the need to make so many of their films an expose on it.

    Do you understand what I’m saying, or am I being facile?

  14. on Sep 15 2008 @ 11:16 am 14. Sam Juliano said …

    Surely an excellent review here, and one I resisted reading until I actually saw the film, which I did over the weekend. I completely concur with the four-of-five rating, as the film falls short of masterpieces status, perhaps because of its unconventional and sometimes uneven structure.
    But fabulous performances, and some great dialogue elevate this to formidable status within the pantheon of Coen movies, a point you brought out superbly in your combined analytical/historical approach here.

  15. on Sep 15 2008 @ 1:37 pm 15. Daniel said …

    I know where to come for Coen analysis, that’s for sure. Seems like everyone is saying the same thing about BAR (I have to read your review still, Sam), but it’s interesting to think about nonetheless, especially the thoughts on head wounds and screenwriting. I like Craig’s thoughts on the unique style of humor as well – especially interesting in relation to your experience of the movie, Evan! I never though to consider it anything but outright comedy, despite Burwell’s score.

  16. on Sep 15 2008 @ 8:48 pm 16. G said …

    I’m a little late to the party, seeing as I wasn’t reading reviews until I found time to write my own. Pretty much everything has been said except: If it takes Coen Bros movie to get you to rate something above a 4, I still say you’ve got a problem. Although the DVD reviews are helping now; Young at Heart with a 4.5, Love Guru at 0.5, and Made of Honor at 1.5 suggests to me that you are watching the movies everyone else is.

    That 5.0 for Speed Racer…well, I know it’s been discussed.

  17. on Sep 17 2008 @ 3:21 pm 17. christian said …

    Maybe I should go see this film.

  18. on Sep 17 2008 @ 3:30 pm 18. Evan Derrick said …

    Maybe. :)

  19. on Oct 03 2008 @ 1:48 pm 19. Alexander Coleman said …

    Excellent review, Evan, and like Joel, I most appreciate your breaking down of how the Coens continually break screenwriting “rules.” Very interesting!

    As you note in the comments section, this is kind of a film rooted in Ed Tom Bell’s statement in No Country for Old Men, “That’s all right. I laugh sometimes. Sometimes there’s nothing to do but laugh.”

    Burwell’s menacing and somberly suspenseful score is probably going to grow on me the most out of all the aspects of this picture. I need to see this one again. I found this film quite amenable to analysis and discussion.

  20. on Oct 03 2008 @ 1:54 pm 20. Evan Derrick said …

    Thank you much, Alexander. I imagine many aspects of the film (including the score) will grow on me over time. I’m not in a rush to see it again (I’ll let it marinate for a year or two) but I’ll definitely seek it out again in the future to see how it has aged.

    …and I’m off to read your piece (I have a lot of catching up to do after my 2 week absence from the intertubes).

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