NYFF: No Country For Old Men

By Katey Rich

Javier Bardem stalks his prey as hitman Anton Chigurh.

It's inaccurate to call No Country For Old Men fun�you've probably got some issues to work through if you do�but man, is it satisfying. The Coen Brothers return to crime and the American West after a string of recent comedies, and No Country is proof that they can still do suspense and black, black humor better than just about anyone else. It's hard to think of anyone else more capable of filming a potential execution-style killing that makes you laugh.

And speaking of fun�the Coens seem to be having a blast with one of their three main characters, the indefatigable psychopath Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem). Sporting one of the worst haircuts in cinematic history -"We inflicted the hair on Javier," Ethan Coen says�and a face incapable of cracking a smile, Chigurh stalks western Texas in pursuit of Llewellyn Moss (Josh Brolin), a retired welder who, by chance, has made off with $2 million belonging to Chigurh. A professional assassin by trade and total psychopath, Chigurh lets his victims flip coins to decide their fate, performs surgery on himself, and walks away from a car explosion without flinching. It's cruelly delightful to watch Chigurh anticipate his next destructive move, but when he pairs up with another man seeking the money (Woody Harrelson), it actually becomes funny: Chigurh is a ruthless hit man who seems unfamiliar with the concept of an ATM.

Brolin stars as Llewellyn Moss.

Also involved in the pursuit of Llewellyn and his cash is Sheriff Ed Bell (Tommy Lee Jones), an old-fashioned lawman who is baffled and disappointed by the amount of violence disrupting his hometown. Bell's crisis gives the film its title, a belief that events such as these mark a new era, one in which traditionalists such as Bell have no place. Though Bell's role is reduced from that in Cormac McCarthy's novel of the same name, on which the film is based, his narration and moments of doubt and exhaustion give the film its emotional core, elevating it above a cat-and-mouse thriller.

Asked about the film and the book as being an "end of the road" for the Western, Jones and Joel Coen both refused to draw too many connections, with some characteristic humor thrown in as well. "It's really hard for me to speak to the idea of there being a genre called Western that can get old and die," Jones said. "I really like making movies that are set in my home (Jones was born in San Saba, Texas), and I'm really interested in the history of my home, and I like horses, and I've got a lot of big hats."

The Coens were reluctant to discuss details about their intention with the film during the press conference following the Saturday screening at the New York Film Festival, a reticence that seems to have been part of the filmmaking process as well. "We kind of trust the actor," Ethan Coen said. "For better or worse it's the actor's interpretations." Brolin, who noted that the brothers are men of few words on the set, put it this way: "I think we were more worried about Joel and Ethan not being in our face than the camera being in our face."

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Bardem: far less terrifying in real life.

Following such an intense and gripping film, it was a little jarring to see Brolin and Bardem, who had spent the last two hours locked in mortal combat on the screen, joking before an audience of critics like old pals. Brolin told the story about the night Bardem got his brutal haircut for the film: "We went to the Cowgirl Caf, which is a lesbian bar in Santa Fe. He was kind of depressed and he said, "I'm not going to get laid for three months!"

Bardem, who made his career in Spain, said that, as a European, he was more uncomfortable with scenes of violence than he would be with sex scenes. Given the opportunity to work with the Coens, however, he was willing to step into the shoes of a psychopath. "It took like one second for me to say yes [to the Coens]. From there, I thought it was just fun to be there and kill people, go back to the motel and sleep."

Though Bardem nearly felt sick when he saw blood splattering motel room walls in one scene�"And I'm there to play the bad guy, so it's weird"�he said the brutal role didn't take its toll mentally, but visually. "I was in character, even if I didn't want to [be], because when I woke up and I took a shower, and I looked at myself in the mirror, I had the same haircut. When you go to buy milk, people get quite frightened."

The critical raves for No Country for Old Men already abound�check out Jim Emerson at The Chicago Sun-Times, who seems to think the Coens epitomize cinema itself. I have to agree. Everyone has put in their best work here�special mention to cinematographer Roger Deakins�and the Coens continue to be the most inventive and versatile auteurs working today. No Country isn't exactly a pleasure, but few films lately have made me so excited about the act of being a moviegoer.