I have seldom felt the kind of exhilaration that I felt as I watched the last frames of "Red". Since this is the last film of a trilogy, I felt that I had been swept away into a totally different place. Though the 3 films of the 3 Colors Trilogy take place in different places and focus on different characters, it is clear that Kiewsloski is telling 3 related stories. What amazed me in watching this film is that even though "Blue" and "White" were so good, this film still went to a different level. Why? I think it is because this movie feels the most hopeful. None of the 3 films end sadly or tragically. In all three films, there is a clear resolution. But what makes this film different is its protagonist.
I once read that when Fyodor Dostoevsky wrote "The Idiot", it was his aim to depict a perfectly upright man. In many ways, it feels as though Kiewsloski is doing that with the character of Valentine. She is sensitive, lovely, compassionate and selfless. In a movie with constant red imagery, here Kiewsloski names his character something that evokes the color. One night, Valentine is driving and hits a dog. She locates the dog's owner Joseph, and finds him to be a retired judge. He now spends his days using fancy equipment to spy on the phone conversations of other residents of Geneva. As this relationship plays it self out, another parallel story is playing itself out. A young law student who is on the verge of passing his exams lives on the same block as Valentine. As we find out more about Joseph and is background, we begin to see remarkable parallels between Joseph and the young law student who lives near Valentine. Since the three films have depicted the three values of France (Liberty, Equality, Fraternity), this film concerns itself with the broader implications of brotherly love and caring for mankind. I don't want to give anything away, but there is an identical image in all 3 films which ends differently in "Red", and I think in that scene we see a great deal about what Kiewsloski is trying to say in this film.
All three of these films evoke great excitement for me. Kiewsloski (who passed away in 1996 at age 54) creates 3 films that celebrate what cinema has to offer. In my years of watching movies, I don't know if I have ever watched movies that are so purely cinematic as his films. He seems to show through his work that there are certain things that can be communicated through this medium which simply cannot be communicated any other way. The combination of music, story, visual images, clever dialogue and drama that can only come through in cinema is on full display. And yet, the films do not spoon feed the viewer. These movies challenge us with moral ambiguity, but then have the audacity to then challenge us with absolutes as well.
The last images of this film sum up the trilogy well. Here, we have a vast work of imagination that reminds us that we are all connected as humans. What connects us are ideals and our common humanity. But it doesn't end there. It also seems that Kiewsloski leaves us wanting to ask one final question: Where do we go from here?
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Sunday, June 19, 2011
The Three Colors Triolgy: White
This movie is amazing. I already wrote about "Blue", the first entry in Kiewsloski's Three Colors Trilogy. That film dealt with the concept of liberty. This film deals with the concept of equality, and it is a hoot.
It is a dark comedy, so many of the scenes of the film have an irony and a harshness that makes you laugh through your tears. The film follows Karol, a Polish immigrant to France whose marriage to Dominque is falling apart. We come to find out that there has been no consummation of the marriage (due to physical inability on his part to consummate), so Dominique is not only leaving him, but she is intent on humiliating him. Karol is left penniless and destitute. The majority of the film is about his attempt to rebuild his life and get equal with Dominique.
Here again, Kiewsloski uses the cinema as his canvas. The color white is everywhere in this movie. After his marriage is dissolved in a courtroom, Karol leaves the courtroom, making his way down the alabaster steps. As the pigeons fly away to avoid him, on of them defecates on him, leaving a white smear on his suit. The frozen landscapes of Poland bring the white theme. And the enduring image of Dominique in her wedding dress is used, as the hope of a marriage awaits Karol and Dominique, only to be a short lived disappointment.
In the end, the film is about getting even, and what that means. The climactic shot of the film has a power to it in showing when Karol has achieved his equality. But since there is more to the movie, the final shot of the film tells us far more about the true nature of the relationship between Karol and Dominique. The foreshadowing of the window shot early in the film shows a longing that Karol has for Dominique, and the final shot shows that same longing, though I will not say anything more about the final shot.
Kiewsloski's world is exciting and different. His films are a revelation to me. As I write this, I only have one more film of the Three Colors Trilogy left to watch, but I anticipate it greatly.
It is a dark comedy, so many of the scenes of the film have an irony and a harshness that makes you laugh through your tears. The film follows Karol, a Polish immigrant to France whose marriage to Dominque is falling apart. We come to find out that there has been no consummation of the marriage (due to physical inability on his part to consummate), so Dominique is not only leaving him, but she is intent on humiliating him. Karol is left penniless and destitute. The majority of the film is about his attempt to rebuild his life and get equal with Dominique.
Here again, Kiewsloski uses the cinema as his canvas. The color white is everywhere in this movie. After his marriage is dissolved in a courtroom, Karol leaves the courtroom, making his way down the alabaster steps. As the pigeons fly away to avoid him, on of them defecates on him, leaving a white smear on his suit. The frozen landscapes of Poland bring the white theme. And the enduring image of Dominique in her wedding dress is used, as the hope of a marriage awaits Karol and Dominique, only to be a short lived disappointment.
In the end, the film is about getting even, and what that means. The climactic shot of the film has a power to it in showing when Karol has achieved his equality. But since there is more to the movie, the final shot of the film tells us far more about the true nature of the relationship between Karol and Dominique. The foreshadowing of the window shot early in the film shows a longing that Karol has for Dominique, and the final shot shows that same longing, though I will not say anything more about the final shot.
Kiewsloski's world is exciting and different. His films are a revelation to me. As I write this, I only have one more film of the Three Colors Trilogy left to watch, but I anticipate it greatly.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Kiewsloski's Three Color Trilogy: Blue
Having finished Kiewsloski's Decalogue, I turned my attention to his penultimate work, the Three Colors Trilogy. The three films are entitled Blue, White and Red in reference to the three colors in the French flag. Also, each of these films is about one of the three concepts of the French motto (Liberty, Equality, Fraternity). This film is one of those experiences that shows more than most the unique nature of cinema, and why so much can be expressed with a movie camera that simply cannot be expressed any other way.
Juliette Binoche plays Julie, a woman who loses her husband and young daughter in a car accident. Her husband is a famous composer who is writing a symphonic piece to commemorate the unification of Europe. When they die, she attempts to completely separate herself from her past and from any emotional attachments. This proves to become more and more difficult as we get to know her. We come to find out that she is a compassionate person, and that she will not be able to abandon humanity, even those people who have hurt her.
Kiewsloski does some wonderful things here with photography and with soundtrack. This is a total cinematic experience. The production design, the music, the acting, and the writing all feed the theme and tone of the film wonderfully. Take, for example, many of the scenes shot in the swimming pool. The water itself is blue. Also, the pool can symbolize liberty, because a person in it is not bound by gravity in the traditional sense. Julie escapes to the pool because she sees it as a place of liberty. But even there she cannot totally escape. In the end, the film grapples with the nature of liberty. Are we truly at liberty when we have no attachments to others? Or do we find true freedom in serving others? The film does not answer these questions, but allows us to grapple with them.
There are also scenes that are simply a pleasure to look at, or scenes that give us oddities that we can contemplate. I am thrilled that I have discovered Kiewsloski's work. I love finding a new world to explore, and his films are giving me that.
Juliette Binoche plays Julie, a woman who loses her husband and young daughter in a car accident. Her husband is a famous composer who is writing a symphonic piece to commemorate the unification of Europe. When they die, she attempts to completely separate herself from her past and from any emotional attachments. This proves to become more and more difficult as we get to know her. We come to find out that she is a compassionate person, and that she will not be able to abandon humanity, even those people who have hurt her.
Kiewsloski does some wonderful things here with photography and with soundtrack. This is a total cinematic experience. The production design, the music, the acting, and the writing all feed the theme and tone of the film wonderfully. Take, for example, many of the scenes shot in the swimming pool. The water itself is blue. Also, the pool can symbolize liberty, because a person in it is not bound by gravity in the traditional sense. Julie escapes to the pool because she sees it as a place of liberty. But even there she cannot totally escape. In the end, the film grapples with the nature of liberty. Are we truly at liberty when we have no attachments to others? Or do we find true freedom in serving others? The film does not answer these questions, but allows us to grapple with them.
There are also scenes that are simply a pleasure to look at, or scenes that give us oddities that we can contemplate. I am thrilled that I have discovered Kiewsloski's work. I love finding a new world to explore, and his films are giving me that.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
The Decalogue
"And God spoke all these words, saying..." Exodus 20:1.
It may come as something of a surprise to many people that the Hebrew Bible does not mention that God gave 10 commandments. Instead, the author of the Pentateuch notes that at a vital moment in the history of Israel, God spoke words, not commandments, to the infant nation. In Greek, the word Decalogue, most literally translated, means "ten words". It is from this word that Krysztof Kieslowski takes the title of his amazing, visionary film. It is a ten part film (each part being a little less than an hour), and each part tells an amazing story which relates to each of the 10 words. Lately, I have been consumed by the world of this brilliant filmmaker, so this blog may be dominated by his work for the next few entries. Bear with me, and think about checking out some of this man's work.
"The Decalogue" is not an instructional series, nor is it heavy handed moralism. Instead, it deals openly and honestly with some very difficult ethical dilemmas that relate to the moral underpinnings of the 10 words (what we call commandments). Take, for example, Decalogue 5. The fifth commandment is "You shall not murder." Here, Kieslowski gives us a horrible character who commits needless and cold blooded murder. But what Kieslowski does is make it a meditation on capital punishment. For anyone who has ever seen "Dead Man Walking", it seems as though Tim Robbins almost borrowed his story from this story. Whatever one thinks of Kieslowski's conclusions regarding capital punishment isn't the point. The point is that he is grappling with the serious issues that these important ethical benchmarks bring to our lives.
This is also the case on Decalogue 8. Here, Kieslowski brings a new view to the classic moral dilemma of whether or not you lie to the Germans during WW2 in order to save the life (or lives) of another (or others). Here, the person with the moral dilemma initially looks like a coward. The Jewish woman who has come to judge her learns that the situation was more complex than she realized.
Decalogue 2 is also riveting. It tells the story of a woman who discovers she is pregnant by her lover. Her husband has been unable to have children, so any pregnancy would prove her infidelity. The woman seeks the help of her husband's doctor to get a prognosis on her husband. If her husband lives, she plans to have an abortion. If he dies, she will have the child, since she has not had a chance to have children, and she wants a child. This would make for an absorbing story on its own, but the doctor has his own moral dilemma given the information he has. What he does and why he does it make for an amazing pay off.
Decalogue 1 is equal parts engrossing and heartbreaking. It challenges the idea of materialism and what we make of a world that is simply a material place that is subject to physical laws. Is everything really that predictable? Decalogue 1 tells a story in which a man who believes in the ultimate power of reason ends up having to put his belief to the ultimate test.
One thing that does appear connect these 10 films is the color red. I don't know that all 10 films have that striking color. However, since the drabness of Communist housing is the setting for these films, the color red stands out in these films, and it seems intentional to me. Could Kiewsloski be making a comment on the blood of Christ somehow affecting or covering the law as the people fail to keep it? I don't know, but I have a hunch that Kiewsloski would be open to that question.
It is difficult to write about one part without writing about all 10. All 10 parts are riveting. They each tell dramatic stories, and each are them are finely acted and realized. To make one of these films would have been an achievement, but to make 10 is truly remarkable. So many moral dilemmas are shown: abortion, voyeurism, fornication, adultery, capital punishment, greed, kidnapping, broken promises and lack of trust. These issues are all dealt with well, even when the position taken may not be one the viewer agrees with. It is a fine line to walk between belief in moral absolutes and realizing that absolute principles usually cannot be applied absolutely. If we absolutely say it is never ever right to lie, things are relatively simple. If we allow for the fact that some things are worth lying for, we realize that there are greater principles involved. The question that all of these films asks then becomes, how are these 10 commandments applied? My belief is that the answer lies in the heart...what motivations do we have and why are we doing what we are doing?
(It is worth noting at the outset that this series seems like a big time commitment, and it is. But, if that is a concern, be sure to note that each of these ten one hour films can stand on their own-one needn't watch all ten to appreciate one part.)
It may come as something of a surprise to many people that the Hebrew Bible does not mention that God gave 10 commandments. Instead, the author of the Pentateuch notes that at a vital moment in the history of Israel, God spoke words, not commandments, to the infant nation. In Greek, the word Decalogue, most literally translated, means "ten words". It is from this word that Krysztof Kieslowski takes the title of his amazing, visionary film. It is a ten part film (each part being a little less than an hour), and each part tells an amazing story which relates to each of the 10 words. Lately, I have been consumed by the world of this brilliant filmmaker, so this blog may be dominated by his work for the next few entries. Bear with me, and think about checking out some of this man's work.
"The Decalogue" is not an instructional series, nor is it heavy handed moralism. Instead, it deals openly and honestly with some very difficult ethical dilemmas that relate to the moral underpinnings of the 10 words (what we call commandments). Take, for example, Decalogue 5. The fifth commandment is "You shall not murder." Here, Kieslowski gives us a horrible character who commits needless and cold blooded murder. But what Kieslowski does is make it a meditation on capital punishment. For anyone who has ever seen "Dead Man Walking", it seems as though Tim Robbins almost borrowed his story from this story. Whatever one thinks of Kieslowski's conclusions regarding capital punishment isn't the point. The point is that he is grappling with the serious issues that these important ethical benchmarks bring to our lives.
This is also the case on Decalogue 8. Here, Kieslowski brings a new view to the classic moral dilemma of whether or not you lie to the Germans during WW2 in order to save the life (or lives) of another (or others). Here, the person with the moral dilemma initially looks like a coward. The Jewish woman who has come to judge her learns that the situation was more complex than she realized.
Decalogue 2 is also riveting. It tells the story of a woman who discovers she is pregnant by her lover. Her husband has been unable to have children, so any pregnancy would prove her infidelity. The woman seeks the help of her husband's doctor to get a prognosis on her husband. If her husband lives, she plans to have an abortion. If he dies, she will have the child, since she has not had a chance to have children, and she wants a child. This would make for an absorbing story on its own, but the doctor has his own moral dilemma given the information he has. What he does and why he does it make for an amazing pay off.
Decalogue 1 is equal parts engrossing and heartbreaking. It challenges the idea of materialism and what we make of a world that is simply a material place that is subject to physical laws. Is everything really that predictable? Decalogue 1 tells a story in which a man who believes in the ultimate power of reason ends up having to put his belief to the ultimate test.
One thing that does appear connect these 10 films is the color red. I don't know that all 10 films have that striking color. However, since the drabness of Communist housing is the setting for these films, the color red stands out in these films, and it seems intentional to me. Could Kiewsloski be making a comment on the blood of Christ somehow affecting or covering the law as the people fail to keep it? I don't know, but I have a hunch that Kiewsloski would be open to that question.
It is difficult to write about one part without writing about all 10. All 10 parts are riveting. They each tell dramatic stories, and each are them are finely acted and realized. To make one of these films would have been an achievement, but to make 10 is truly remarkable. So many moral dilemmas are shown: abortion, voyeurism, fornication, adultery, capital punishment, greed, kidnapping, broken promises and lack of trust. These issues are all dealt with well, even when the position taken may not be one the viewer agrees with. It is a fine line to walk between belief in moral absolutes and realizing that absolute principles usually cannot be applied absolutely. If we absolutely say it is never ever right to lie, things are relatively simple. If we allow for the fact that some things are worth lying for, we realize that there are greater principles involved. The question that all of these films asks then becomes, how are these 10 commandments applied? My belief is that the answer lies in the heart...what motivations do we have and why are we doing what we are doing?
(It is worth noting at the outset that this series seems like a big time commitment, and it is. But, if that is a concern, be sure to note that each of these ten one hour films can stand on their own-one needn't watch all ten to appreciate one part.)
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Babe
"When those little mice bust a gut trying to drag that key up hundreds of stairs in order to free Cinderella, I don't care how many Kubrick pictures you've seen, it's still exciting."
-Roger Ebert
There is a moment at the end of Babe that reminds me of this quote every time I see the movie. Farmer Hoggett is watching his sheep-pig herd sheep in front of a stunned audience. As the sheep make their way around the arena toward the center pen, the audience sits in silence. As Babe the pig cajoles the last of the sheep into the pen, Farmer Hoggett walks over to the pen gate. As the gate slowly latches shut, the audience erupts into thunderous applause. I don't care what weighty topics I have seen in movies, or what death defying stunts I have seen, there are few moments in movies that are as exciting as this moment is for me.
It is a classic for the whole family. But what struck me when I first saw this movie on video some 16-17 years ago was how the stuffy critics simply loved it. It didn't take long after popping the video tape into the VCR to understand why. Here was a movie that clearly loved the story it had to tell, and loved the fact that it was pulling every heart string available. It follows the adventures of a runt pig who manages to avoid becoming bacon and make it to a farm. Once there, he must somehow convince the farmer to not use him for Christmas dinner. One of the reasons the movie works so well is the all of the animals in it are somewhat lovable, but there is a sort of Orwellian darkness to it as well, invoking Animal Farm and the proper place for each animal on the farm. Since pigs' purpose is to be eaten, the powers that be in the animal community look upon this gifted pig with suspicion.
But seriously, it's not as serious as all that. In the end, Famer Hoggett sees a possibility in the pig, and the pig becomes a sheep herder. This eventually leads to the climactic moment I mentioned above. But the movie would be just another story if it were not so well realized. The animals are so believable, and the colors and production design add texture to the story. Since we are never told a setting, there is something in the way the movie is visualized and photographed that always make the world it is in seem fantastic. It looks enough like our world to be see some reality, but it is fanciful enough for us to realize we are in a different place all togther.
Sometimes basic and innocent storytelling has a power that realism simply cannot bring. What a movie like this shows us is that cinema and its art has a wide variety to offer, from the serious and ponderous to the silly and childlike. That'll do....
-Roger Ebert
There is a moment at the end of Babe that reminds me of this quote every time I see the movie. Farmer Hoggett is watching his sheep-pig herd sheep in front of a stunned audience. As the sheep make their way around the arena toward the center pen, the audience sits in silence. As Babe the pig cajoles the last of the sheep into the pen, Farmer Hoggett walks over to the pen gate. As the gate slowly latches shut, the audience erupts into thunderous applause. I don't care what weighty topics I have seen in movies, or what death defying stunts I have seen, there are few moments in movies that are as exciting as this moment is for me.
It is a classic for the whole family. But what struck me when I first saw this movie on video some 16-17 years ago was how the stuffy critics simply loved it. It didn't take long after popping the video tape into the VCR to understand why. Here was a movie that clearly loved the story it had to tell, and loved the fact that it was pulling every heart string available. It follows the adventures of a runt pig who manages to avoid becoming bacon and make it to a farm. Once there, he must somehow convince the farmer to not use him for Christmas dinner. One of the reasons the movie works so well is the all of the animals in it are somewhat lovable, but there is a sort of Orwellian darkness to it as well, invoking Animal Farm and the proper place for each animal on the farm. Since pigs' purpose is to be eaten, the powers that be in the animal community look upon this gifted pig with suspicion.
But seriously, it's not as serious as all that. In the end, Famer Hoggett sees a possibility in the pig, and the pig becomes a sheep herder. This eventually leads to the climactic moment I mentioned above. But the movie would be just another story if it were not so well realized. The animals are so believable, and the colors and production design add texture to the story. Since we are never told a setting, there is something in the way the movie is visualized and photographed that always make the world it is in seem fantastic. It looks enough like our world to be see some reality, but it is fanciful enough for us to realize we are in a different place all togther.
Sometimes basic and innocent storytelling has a power that realism simply cannot bring. What a movie like this shows us is that cinema and its art has a wide variety to offer, from the serious and ponderous to the silly and childlike. That'll do....
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Winter's Bone
There's darkness, and then there's bleakness, and this movie has got plenty of both. This is a very absorbing story. There is no question that the performances and the realization of the story are both brilliant. It is enormously effective in creating a tone of dreary hopelessness. There is an impending sense of dread about the movie. So, it is very involving. At the same time, the sum does not quite equal its parts for me. I always felt concern for the characters, but they still seemed distant to me. Even though the protagonist (Ree) is dealing with life altering situations, somehow the movie maintained an air of a horror film, even though it is not a horror film. So, even though the story is very human, the story still seems distant. I cared about the characters, but in a very different way then usual. The care I have is best channeled through the children in the film. It is almost as though there is a doorway that Ree has passed through and the children haven't, and the innocence the children enjoy on their side of the door gives us hope. Meanwhile, Ree's insistence that the children stay innocent and protected make her heroic.
The story follows Ree, a 17 year old who has come to be all but the mother of her younger brother and sister. Her mother is mentally ill and out of commission, and her father has left them. He used his property to acquire a bail bond, so the family is now in danger of losing their home. Ree begins trying to find her father, but the more she looks. the more the local hierarchy of underworld drug lords begins pushing back. In the end, she is forced to continue her search simply in order to survive and take care of her siblings.
Jennifer Lawerence is so convincing in her role. This is a movie that easily could have descended into stereotypes, but it does not. Instead, it shows these people for who they are, warts and all. And yet I still can say I felt a certain disconnect in the movie. This movie takes place in my home country, yet it couldn't feel more foreign in many ways. Perhaps that is the power of the film. Even though I felt distance, I still appreciated the eventual hope that comes in the film. Again, I can appreciate the innocence of the little children in the film, as they play in the back yard, unaware of the nightmarish reality around them. That's quite a tribute to what makes this movie special.
The story follows Ree, a 17 year old who has come to be all but the mother of her younger brother and sister. Her mother is mentally ill and out of commission, and her father has left them. He used his property to acquire a bail bond, so the family is now in danger of losing their home. Ree begins trying to find her father, but the more she looks. the more the local hierarchy of underworld drug lords begins pushing back. In the end, she is forced to continue her search simply in order to survive and take care of her siblings.
Jennifer Lawerence is so convincing in her role. This is a movie that easily could have descended into stereotypes, but it does not. Instead, it shows these people for who they are, warts and all. And yet I still can say I felt a certain disconnect in the movie. This movie takes place in my home country, yet it couldn't feel more foreign in many ways. Perhaps that is the power of the film. Even though I felt distance, I still appreciated the eventual hope that comes in the film. Again, I can appreciate the innocence of the little children in the film, as they play in the back yard, unaware of the nightmarish reality around them. That's quite a tribute to what makes this movie special.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Fargo
"Where do you live?" "Minnesota." "OH YEAH YOU BETCHA"-Many conversations with folks over the years have ended up going like this. I think a lot of that comes from this movie.
This film has grown to be so storied and impersonated that I wonder if some have forgotten just how good it really is. People immediately go into the accent, and immediately think that those of us who live here had never considered that people here talk that way. Do people talk that way here? It depends. In the cities (what we call Minneapolis and St. Paul here), there is not a thick accent, for the most part. But longtime residents have it, and when one ventures outside the metro, one can hear a pretty thick accent on display.
When I saw the movie for the first time, it seemed that the Coen Brothers were making fun of the dialect. I doubt that. Instead, I think that they are using the dialect to create this world. This world only works if there is an overt folksiness to the people in the movie. Only in that world will the horror of the acts committed by the people in the movie be truly stark.
The film follows Jerry Lundegard's (William H. Macy) bumbling attempt to extort money from his father in law. He recklessly hires two thugs to kidnap his wife and then put a ransom on his wife. Jerry is then convinced that his father in law will cough up the money to the thugs who will in turn give him the money he needs to solve his financial woes. Unfortunately, things do not go smoothly, and when the thugs commit murder in Brainerd, MN, the town police chief Marge (Frances McDormand) is called onto the case.
The savagery of the crimes of the hired thugs is a contrast to everything else in the movie. Even the blood shed on the frozen tundra is stark, as the blood flows onto the white winter wasteland. But even more effective is the way the inhuman acts contrast to the simple human decency of Marge and her husband. Marge is 7 months pregnant (don't ya' know), and the love of her husband for her is part of the deep texture of this movie. The dialect of the film is part of the world, and therefore, not overdone. Of course there is exaggeration and caricature, but that is used in order to evoke more basic things about Minnesota. Also, the omnipresence of cold is on depicted. The cold in Minnesota affects every aspect of life, and this is on full display here.
It is a story told so well. As the Coens went on to glory years later with "No Country for Old Men", this film is left behind a bit. Every scene is brilliantly written and realized, and the longer I live in Minnesota, the more I appreciate what they did with it. Of course the accent is overdone, but isn't that what movies do?
This film has grown to be so storied and impersonated that I wonder if some have forgotten just how good it really is. People immediately go into the accent, and immediately think that those of us who live here had never considered that people here talk that way. Do people talk that way here? It depends. In the cities (what we call Minneapolis and St. Paul here), there is not a thick accent, for the most part. But longtime residents have it, and when one ventures outside the metro, one can hear a pretty thick accent on display.
When I saw the movie for the first time, it seemed that the Coen Brothers were making fun of the dialect. I doubt that. Instead, I think that they are using the dialect to create this world. This world only works if there is an overt folksiness to the people in the movie. Only in that world will the horror of the acts committed by the people in the movie be truly stark.
The film follows Jerry Lundegard's (William H. Macy) bumbling attempt to extort money from his father in law. He recklessly hires two thugs to kidnap his wife and then put a ransom on his wife. Jerry is then convinced that his father in law will cough up the money to the thugs who will in turn give him the money he needs to solve his financial woes. Unfortunately, things do not go smoothly, and when the thugs commit murder in Brainerd, MN, the town police chief Marge (Frances McDormand) is called onto the case.
The savagery of the crimes of the hired thugs is a contrast to everything else in the movie. Even the blood shed on the frozen tundra is stark, as the blood flows onto the white winter wasteland. But even more effective is the way the inhuman acts contrast to the simple human decency of Marge and her husband. Marge is 7 months pregnant (don't ya' know), and the love of her husband for her is part of the deep texture of this movie. The dialect of the film is part of the world, and therefore, not overdone. Of course there is exaggeration and caricature, but that is used in order to evoke more basic things about Minnesota. Also, the omnipresence of cold is on depicted. The cold in Minnesota affects every aspect of life, and this is on full display here.
It is a story told so well. As the Coens went on to glory years later with "No Country for Old Men", this film is left behind a bit. Every scene is brilliantly written and realized, and the longer I live in Minnesota, the more I appreciate what they did with it. Of course the accent is overdone, but isn't that what movies do?
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