No Country For Old Men

Ok, I HAD to see “No Country For Old Men”.  After all, it’s been on just about everyone’s list of Top Films of 2007.

First, the acting.  The acting was brilliant.   Javier Bardem was outstanding as the killer in the film, and Josh Brolin, while non-schelant during most of the film, had me very interested in the character and what would happen to him and what he’d do next.

The movie was fantastic……………….. until the last 20 minutes.

Suddenly, this fast-paced and interesting movie switched gears and got really bad really fast.  Suddenly, near the end, there’s this scene between Tommy Lee Jones (who plays the sherriff on the case) and his father (in a wheel chair) that seems so out of place.  It’s got long winded and slow conversation that while it ads a little more depth to Jones’ character seemed unneeded to me.  I mean, Tommy Lee doesn’t have much screen time before this scene, and I prefered it that way.  He’s a side character, and not a main one.  The scene with him and crippled father seemed to just be a way to give Jones more face time.

The ending I won’t say as I don’t want to ruin it for everyone, but lets just say the end pissed me off.  I won’t say why though, because it’ll give away the ending.  If you’ve already seen it and want to find out why I disliked it so much, e-mail me at flannelmann@yahoo.com

So basically, this movie is a must see… until the last 20 minutes.

3 Responses to “No Country For Old Men”

  1. Patrick says:

    You didn’t like the ending because it defied traditional plot structure and because it requires the viewer to think long and hard about what has happened here. This is not a neat, traditional Hollywood ending; the point is that it is very uncertain, very unsettling, and very real-life. The Coen Brothers make a staggering comment on our expectations from a film narrative, as well as the current state of our society and the way we perceive and respond to violence.

  2. Travis Seppala says:

    um… no.

    I didn’t like the ending portion of the movie because in that 3rd act we had a lot of boring face time with Tommy Lee Jones… the scene with him and the handicap… it did nothing to add to the story. It made Jones’ character into a “lead role”… but up until then he wasn’t. He should have just been a secondary character as his character didn’t add much of anything to the story, and I felt like they were just trying to get him more on-screen time.

    And the second reason I didn’t like it was that they had this huge buildup for a “final showdown” between our killer and our lucky cowboy…. instead he gets offed by the mexicans?! I felt very cheated.

  3. Patrick says:

    OK, try this. Someone on my Myspace blog had a similar issue with the film…I’m going to cut and paste how I put it to them. Think about this, Travis. I think you’re trying to see the film as a thriller/Western, which it isn’t. The very point of the film is that it is not a showdown spectacle; by expecting or demanding those genre conventions of it, you’re missing the point. My analysis below is kinda wordy, but read it, think about it, try to consider the film in this other light, and give me some feedback.

    No Country (to me) is essentially a relatively realist attempt to tackle the idea of change in our society, particularly in the way we use and respond to violence. The three main characters represent three decidely different points of view: the sheriff represents the older generation, looking on at all the crazy and scary things the “younger folks” are doing with often well-merited dismay; Llewellyn represents that younger generation, believing he is capable of whatever hard-ass acts of violence are necessary to survive; and Chigurh represents something completely different than either of them, something almost inhuman. He is the ultimate individual, requiring and accepting no one but himself in his life; he has a kind of moral code, but only what is necessary to make the arbitrary decisions of his life. He is entirely cool to the carnage he leaves in his path. And so we have old vs. young vs. total moral anarchism.

    To summarize, “young” thinks it can stick it out for itself and is destroyed by wild and random violence; “total moral anarchism” is wounded but calmly walks away as always; and old is left with deeply disturbed uncertainty about what it has witnessed. McCarthy in the novel, and the Coens in the film, DELIBERATELY jettison any kind of traditional narrative satisfaction both to enhance the film’s realism and to make us think about the big issues they present. Llewellyn’s unceremonious death (besides being realistic, if you think about how it would happen in real life) is meant to demonstrate the randomness and callousness of the violence he is faced with.

    The ending (which I think is brilliant, btw) is again meant to make us think about what has happened. The sheriff recounts his dream in which his father rode ahead to prepare a safe camp for him, ending the story and the film by saying “And then I woke up.” The sheriff’s past illusion that something better was waiting for him, either in this life or another, is shattering and he is deeply disturbed by it. Again, the ending is in keeping with the tone of the film; as the audience, you and I WANT a cathartic confrontation between the sheriff and Chigurh. Any “decent” Hollywood film would at least grant us that, even if it gave us the tragic ending of Chigurh killing the sheriff. But McCarthy, and now the Coens, make their masterstroke in leaving us with this extremely unsatisfying and disturbing final scene. They’re saying that in our society, only the completley cold-blooded and individualistic nature of Chigurh has a chance for survival, and they intend for us to be as unsatisfied and unsettled by that as the sheriff is, and as the ending of the film is.

Leave a Reply