The Coen Brothers

Have you seen Fargo? I have, and to this day it is still one of my favourite films. It has everything I could possibly want. Roger Deakins’ quirky but magnificent cinematography captures the innocent intimacy found in the snowy tundra while vast and deep seas of snow are only penetrated by a single red car driving down the solemn road. The story is odd and fascinating, it strays from the beaten path as it not only grips but punctuates the oxymoronic drama with subtle wit and darkly overt humour. Frances McDormand won an Oscar for her performance alongside William H. Macy and Steve Buscemi, a chaotic game of coincidental entanglement.

Fargo is beautiful from every perspective, and it isn’t the only Coen Brothers film to reach such a masterful level. Raising Arizona, The Big Lebowski, No Country for Old Men, True Grit, the list goes on and on. To me, the amazing thing isn’t the amount of incredible works the pair have written, directed, and produced, no, it is the eclectic nature of their content. Somehow, they are able to jump from genre to genre, idea to idea without ever missing a beat. What I don’t understand is how they remain so recognisable; how am I able to distinguish any Coen Brothers film within a matter of seconds when they are able to fit in so easily?

I don’t know if I have the answer. If I did have the answer, I wouldn’t be writing this article, I wouldn’t have to vent about my ever-building frustration towards the Coens. Why? Because they are just too perfect. They scratch an itch that I don’t really know I have until it is scratched. I can’t verbalise the itch, I just know that I want to escape into a world where everything feels oddly theatrical, but never off-putting. At most, I would describe their peculiarity as an earnest bluntness; characters become physical manifestations of their own goals, conduits for a greater task rather than the more human alternative.

How can someone be so funny? To name a film as a black comedy is one matter, but a Coen Brothers’ comedy transcends its genre. It isn’t the simple comparison between light and dark, humour and drama, it is the film itself. The Big Lebowski is so outrageously surreal that it ticks over into being grounded: the Dude exists like a man out of time, floating outside of reality as it zooms past. Everything that happens to the Dude either stems from, or is, a coincidence. The ride is wild and at no point do I ever think, “this is too much.” Because it isn’t.

Just like cooking, consistency is key. I can’t imagine remaining stylistically similar after a decade let alone four. And that is me, a singular person with full control over every word I write and every mark I punctuate (except when those nosey editors get involved). The Coen Brothers are a duo; can you imagine working with someone for your whole career and remaining as in-sync as they have? And this isn’t any other person but your sibling, the person who tore all your posters when you went camping that one time and you still haven’t forgiven them (thanks, Alex).

And now the supergroup is splitting up. For the first time in their careers, Joel has written and directed a film without the aid of Ethan. I don’t know whether to be excited or not. Firstly, Joel Coen’s adaptation of the Scottish play (lest I say the name) looks exciting, but trailers have a knack at making bad films look good (and good films look bad, but a rant on trailers would be long). Will I leave the cinema satisfied with my annual serving of Coen, or, without sounding like a tabloid, will Joel miss Ethan more than he thinks?

Postscript

I just finished watching Burn After Reading, a film that was always on the list but also never got round to. Wow. What a film. I wasn’t surprised to find the Coens’ characteristic charm that I have grown attached to and welcomed their seemingly-goofy-with-a-dark-reality bravado. Maybe I was feeling nostalgic. There is, somewhere, a sense of humour’s needed when talking about finality, so why not just be funny?

It had everything a good movie needs and definitely exceeds my expectations, although what makes the Coen Brothers so fun is their unexpected nature. They always stun me, and then make me burst out in laughter.