I was able to sneak away this afternoon and catch No Country For Old Men. My friend Brian is going to write a full review, so I will provide some of my thoughts.
New York Times film critic A.O. Scott's opening paragraph of his critique of the film ends with this line "at its center is a figure of evil so calm, so extreme, so implacable that to hear his voice is to feel the temperature in the theater drop." That's a hell of a line and a very accurate description of Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem). I will add by writing that even in the scariest of movies I find comfort in the bright flickering light that is the projection bulb behind me. Unfortunately I was able to find no such security in this dark shroud of a movie. To watch No Country For Old Men is to constantly want to look over your shoulder for something sinister waiting to hurt you.
Javier Bardem was excellent, but I was most impressed with Josh Brolin.
Going back to take water to the man in the truck was almost too much of a stretch for me. Almost.
I will spend a lot of time trying to get the image of Javier Bardem on the ground with his handcuffed hands around the sheriff's neck out my head but will have little luck.
Woody Harrelson made the most out of his little screen time.
Fading to black after Tommy Lee Jones discovers the heating grate and the dime and screws on the ground might be some of the finest storytelling I have ever witnessed.
A crumpled plastic cashew bag uncrumpling on a counter top can be a very disturbing image.
Kelly Macdonald almost stole the show in the final minutes of the film. Almost.
How can the same team who made Intolerable Cruelty and The Ladykillers be responsible for this modern masterpiece?