…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).

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.

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

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?

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?

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.

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.

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.

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?

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…

“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.

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.