O BROTHERS...

It pains me to say so, but I found the Coen brothers' No Country for Old Men a disappointment. Although I haven't read the book, I understand that this is a very faithful adaptation, so I suspect I would find both the novel and the film unsatisfactory for the same reasons.

I won't go into detail about this, for fear of revealing too much of the plot, but I mainly took exception to: the tedious moralising (voiced by by the lawman narrator) about how society has become unacceptably violent, in a film/book that makes the depiction of said violence the main souce of entertainment; the narrative incoherence in the last 15 minutes or so; the abrupt and arbitrary ending.

In purely filmmaking terms it is hard to find fault with No Country for Old Men. Cinematography, acting and direction are all superb, but the experience of watching it is ultimately depressing, and not because of the subject-matter. Could it be that the Coens really have lost their way, and have resorted to adapting and remaking other peoples' work rather than crafting their own original stories for the screen? I really hope not, as I would far rather spend time in the company of Frances McDormand's chief of police in Fargo or Sam Elliot's folksy narrator in The Big Lebowski, than Tommy Lee Jones' po-faced counterpart in No Country for Old Men.

Nora Ephron, writing in the New Yorker, summed up many of my own feelings about the film, and made me laugh out loud in the process. Read her piece here.

THIS TIME, THE COENS DO IT BY THE BOOK

I'm a big fan of the Coen brothers, and with the exception of The Ladykillers remake, they can do no wrong in my book.

But what about someone else’s book? This weekend sees the UK release of No Country for Old Men, their first stab at a literary adaptation (from the novel by Cormac McCarthy).

I'm not so familiar with McCarthy's work, having tried and failed to get on with All the Pretty Horses, which I found rather overblown in style. I've heard that even fans of his writing don't rate No Country very highly, which may add credence to the view that it is often lesser books rather than literary masterpieces that make the best movies. Anyway, I'm looking forward to making my own mind up about the film, and may even give another one of McCarthy's novels a try (I've heard very good things about his latest, The Road).

In the meantime, here is a link to an entertaining article in Time Magazine, describing an encounter between the filmmakers and the normally publicity-shy author. There are some interesting exchanges about their differing approaches to the creative process, and some reflections on whether one should bother buying green bananas.

An interesting postscript to this story is that the Coens had originally planned on adapting another novel (James Dickey's To the White Sea), but couldn't raise the money for a bleak and largely wordless film about the firebombing of Tokyo in WW2. Incidentally, Dickey is the author of Deliverance, the source novel for John Boorman's 1972 movie of the same name.

A further PS... Since composing the above, I've come across an informative article on Cormac McCarthy in the Guardian Review, which describes him as 'one of the geatest living novelists', and the Coen's film adaptation of No Country as 'remarkably faithful'. I've avoided reading the entire piece, for fear of spoilers.