Day 124: No Country for Old Men

"What's the most you ever lost on a coin toss?"

After my first viewing of No Country for Old Men, I admit I was slightly disappointed, but more so due to my lack of ability in falling into the film than with the film itself. Please, let me explain. The film itself is good. It’s tight and well paced, on the slower side but with good reason, not only as a representation of the slower, more drawn out lives of the Texans that populate the landscape of the film, but also as a counterpoint to the rabid violence and tension that erupts frequently throughout the film.

The acting is magnificent throughout; there is no doubt about that. Not a bad apple in the barrel. My problem is with the characters themselves. Why should I care about a chase movie? Because I care about the characters, and that they come out okay. Who is the main guy being chased? Well, he stole a bag full of money from a scene of slaughtered men and left one man half dead without alerting anyone, but then tried to go back that night. Not to get him to a hospital or anything sensible like that, no, he’s bringing him a jug of water. Well, now I really like him!

So he runs. A lot. And the guy chasing him kills people. A lot. It almost becomes redundant. They had both been injured so many times that when someone woke up in a hospital I didn’t even know for what. The violence is super realistic, as it should be, and is less startling the fifteenth time you’ve seen it. You almost start to understand how Anton, the killer, could be so cool with doing it so often. Seen one, you seen ‘em all.

But back to my aforementioned point about not being able to fall into it. This was mainly due to the fact that every time anything happened in the movie, be it tension rising, a shooting, a death, a speech, a person walking, or the freakin’ grass blowing, the people behind me had something to say. It was never enough for me to shoosh them, just enough to totally take me out of the movie and be slightly annoyed. It was made all the worse because the guy was directly behind me, so I heard his every twitch, sigh, and moan. I could feel as he ate his popcorn.

I am not better than him. We are both moviegoers. He just kind of pissed me off, that’s all. When I took this experience and compared it with the time I saw Sideways in theatres I began to draw conclusions. When I saw Sideways I was totally in the zone, with my father and my friend beside me. We all laughed, cheered, and sobbed together. The whole audience was on the same vibes. It was a magical experience, the kind you hope for, and the kind that makes you think you saw a masterpiece.

Sideways is no masterpiece. I learned this when I saw it in theatres again with a different audience and different friends. It was enjoyable, and is a pretty good film, but nothing like I remembered. Now I accept the fact that I disliked my experience of No Country more than the film itself. Had I found that groove, I may have sat down at this computer to write a glowing review and see it in theatres again only to realize that it’s just pretty good.

A film is not just a film. It is a malleable experience. Going to a theatre is always a gamble. I know I’m extremely neurotic about how I view films in the privacy of my own home, but paying the money to see a movie how it is meant to be seen can be proven as a good or bad decision by an innumerable amount of variables.

So for now, I think No Country was alright. It’s great in how it subverts preconceptions, but so increasingly repetitive that one no longer cares. It is a film of great technical precision, not so much of emotional impact or lasting importance.