Moviedrome Redux: ‘No Country For Old Men’ (2007)

❉ Nothing short of spectacular, the Coen brothers crafted one of the best noir thrillers to come out of Hollywood.

“Filmic nihilism has rarely been this much fun and entertaining”

The cinematic glories on display during Joel and Ethan Coen’s masterpiece No Country For Old Men are delivered fast and furious, right off the bat, and continue all the way to the end. One of their very best films and easily one of the top American films from 2007, No Country For Old Men succeeds on multiple levels — it’s a terrifying thriller, a layered character study, a riveting chase movie, and a poetic meditation on violence and man’s ability to inflict pain and suffering. In other words, it’s not a romantic comedy, not the least bit sentimental, and hardly a family affair.

The Coens have explored the crime-noir genre in some of their finest pictures (Fargo, Blood Simple, Miller’s Crossing), but with No Country For Old Men, they stare down the conventions of the genre and brilliantly upend them multiple times, leaving the audience in a shocked stupor by the end of the proceedings. Filmic nihilism has rarely been this much fun and entertaining, and in the hands of aesthetic masters like the Coens, the entire piece hums with style and efficiency. But beyond the obvious merits that the writing, acting, and production values offer, it’s the Coen’s effortless ability to transcend the genre through their amazing adaptation of Cormac McCarthy’s novel that pushes No Country For Old Men into unforgettable territory.

The set-up is deceptively simple. Llewelyn Moss, a welder and rancher played with rugged machismo by Josh Brolin stumbles upon a drug-deal gone wrong out in the desert. Bodies litter the ground, dried pools of blood have formed, and bullet casings act like carpeting. On the ground is a suitcase. Moss opens it and finds cash. Lots of cash. Around $2 million to be exact. He takes the case back to his trailer, a decision that will change his life forever. Enter Anton Chigurh, homicidal maniac to the extreme, portrayed by the marvelous actor Javier Bardem, in a breathtaking, Oscar-winning performance. Chigurh is like the Terminator; no remorse, his cold eyes staring through the souls of his potential victims. Wielding a compressed-air canister that he’s fashioned into a quietly lethal weapon, Chigurh has been hired to retrieve the money; quitting isn’t an option for this man.

Meanwhile, a seen-it-all sheriff who’s close to retirement named Ed Bell (the smooth yet grizzled Tommy Lee Jones, who had a banner year eight years ago between his work in this film and the underrated IN THE VALLEY OF ELAH) is picking up the bloody pieces of the crime, trying to figure out who’s who and what’s what. The colorful supporting cast includes Woody Harrelson as a calm bounty hunter, Garrett Dillahunt as a simple deputy, Kelly MacDonald as Moss’s naïve wife, and Stephen Root as a shady businessman.

First and foremost, No Country For Old Men works breathlessly as a thriller. The Coens have an exacting eye in their cinematography choices, and are aided by the incredibly talented director of photography Roger Deakins, who also shot 2007’s elegiac Western The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford. Deakins and the Coens have worked together many times in the past, and here, their visual shorthand was remarkable. Dawn in the desert takes on a sinister tone, and what the Coens and Deakins do with shadow, nighttime pursuits, and streetlamp lighting is the stuff of sweaty-palms and white-knuckles.

The nimble, perfectly controlled editing by the Coens (under their usual pseudonym Roderick Jaynes) amps the tension to the max, as does the almost non-existent musical score; the Coens know that silence and ambient sound effects can sometimes be the scariest choice of aural inspiration. The sound of a light bulb being unscrewed has haunted my ear drums for years. The action sequences are pitched in a hyper-reality that the Coens frame, block, and cut with supreme visceral impact. Blood sprays, bullets fly, and bodies are torn up.

If you’re a fan of perfectly measured filmmaking technique and brazenly violent shootouts, No Country For Old Men delivers in spades. However, it’s what No Country For Old Men says about the violent condition of the human psyche that separates it from other genre entries, and elevates it into the category of masterwork.

The last act of the film, potentially too oblique and not conventionally satisfying for some, is precisely why this film is an example of perfect, uncompromising storytelling. Impossible to fully discuss without spoiling the film (and I wouldn’t dare do such a thing), the last third of the film is contingent upon what a certain character doesn’t do. In that particular moment and along with a couple of other storytelling decisions that the Coens make late in the game, it’s clear that No Country For Old Men is operating on a different playing field than most Hollywood thrillers. What might have become routine and predictable never comes to pass, and the audience, forced to use their brains in order to put together everything that has transpired, has to quickly decide if not seeing something (a major character’s death) is a major cheat or a stroke of genius. I tend to agree with the latter. The Coens, who remained quite faithful to McCarthy’s original story, make a leap in time during the last portion that might seem confusing to some, but positively exhilarating to others.

Their interest in uncovering why people behave the way they do is what drives this hot-blooded movie, and their reluctance as filmmakers to play anything safe is what gives the film its consistently menacing edge. In Fargo, the Coens crafted warm and caring characters for the audience to root for — Marge Gunderson and her easy-going, stamp painting husband, Norm (the wonderful John Carroll Lunch). Norm, along with Marge, are sympathetic creations, and the two of them are characters for the audience to identify and bond with. They also lightened an otherwise dark tale of murder and lies with a sense of natural, honest charm. In No Country For Old Men, the Coens don’t provide the audience with any such characters. Moss is a true anti-hero, and while you are rooting for him, it’s more out of fear than genuine love for the character. Similarly, Jones’s Sheriff, while likable, exists in a state of spiritual and existential crisis, and the decisions he makes run counter to audience expectations of what a “good cop” should do. That the film is called No Country For Old Men is telling in its depiction of evil and casual nihilism; the men of No Country For Old Men have seen enough killing for multiple lifetimes.

The acting from the three male leads is extraordinary. Bardem cut a portrait of a fierce killer so convincingly that he’ll always be looked upon by Hollywood to play the villain. Chigurh, which when pronounced in the film rhymes with “sugar” (ha-ha), is all death all the time; anyone who appears in a scene with him is in danger of losing their life. Sporting a funny, off-putting haircut and an implacable, stoic expression on his face, Chigurh would eat Hannibal Lectre’s liver without washing it down with a fine Chianti. It’s a frightening, mesmerizing tour de force that has etched itself into cinema history.

Brolin brought a quiet, manly quality to the role of Llewelyn, demonstrating integrity if not a ton of smarts. Tossing off dead-pan one liners and rarely cracking a smile through his oily mustache, it’s the sort of role that Nick Nolte would have nailed in his youth.  Brolin crackles with intensity and feels human and believable, an element lacking in many modern crime thrillers. As foolish as some of the decisions are that he makes, you rarely question for one moment that given the circumstances, you’d act any differently if you were in his shoes. It’s a slow-burn performance that was overshadowed by Bardem’s thunder.

Jones took on the role of the Sheriff in a comfortable, relaxed fashion, but always hinted at something more under the surface. The film is book ended with the Sheriff’s voice-over, and through Jones’s melancholic delivery, the audience peers into the heart and soul of a tired, weathered cop. He’s a guy who has seen too much violence in his life, and who questions how much more he needs to see before it’s time to call it quits. It’s a contemplative piece of internal acting yet as a result of his estimable skill, Jones is able to project to the viewer the idea of a man at his limits without using many words.

Nothing short of spectacular, films like No Country For Old Men are the reason why I love the cinema. Art has the ability to both entertain and challenge an audience, and with this flawlessly constructed piece of crime fiction, the Coens blew the lid off of the genre and smashed it to smithereens. I have nothing negative to say about this film; from the terse, mordantly funny dialogue to the amazingly detailed performances, No Country For Old Men is a beautifully paced thriller with zero plot fat or stupid story detours. Focused, wholly engrossing, and shockingly violent, it’s the kind of picture that sneaks up on the viewer and throws your head in a vice. A feeling of awe and elation swept over me as the end credits began to roll upon my first viewing with a packed crowd at the Arclight, and it was then that I realized that I’d seen history in the making; the Coens had crafted one of the best noir thrillers to come out of Hollywood. ,

❉ Nick Clement is a freelance writer, having contributed to Variety Magazine, Hollywood- Elsewhere, Awards Daily, Back to the Movies, and Taste of Cinema. He’s currently writing a book about the works of filmmaker Tony Scott, and co-operates the website Podcasting Them Softly.

❉ He is also a regular contributor for, a site dedicated to providing the best news and analysis on viral marketing and ARG campaigns for films and other forms of entertainment.

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