The Coen Brothers are possibly my favourite directors of all time. When I was younger O Brother, Where Are Thou? was on constant rotation for me, and when I first was developing deeper cinematic considerations one of the films that beckoned me into understanding the art was No Country For Old Men. Watching it by myself on a solo trip to Regina, knowing absolutely nothing outside of the universal critical acclaim, I didn’t understand what I had seen. Arguably I still don’t, as every return to this film and others in their long forty-year career is rewarding and filled with new discoveries.
One of the elements that still alludes many viewers is, well, what do the Coen Brothers believe in? What are they trying to say about the world with their films? Stylistically their films vary from high-energy screwball comedies to deadly serious neo-noirs with many things in between. Critics have spoken about the Coens as creatives who hate their creations, as mean Gods setting about the destruction of their characters. “Nihilists” has been a label that has plagued the Coens since early in their careers. But exploring their films there is far more than screeds against God and the failures of man working. And through these films we can see one thing; the Coens believe in the power of the individual over all else. There is no destiny in the world of the Coen Brothers, and getting lost in such fanciful folly often costs their characters everything. We are the choices we make.
This is echoed in The Tragedy of Macbeth, the first solo directing effort from Joel Coen. Macbeth is a classic case of the self-fulfilling prophecy. There was no true destiny in the words spoken by the Witches, only that which Macbeth was already willing to hear. It is still on the hands of Macbeth and Lady Macbeth the decisions they have made. It is this guilt that leads to their insanity and deaths, as they both know that their betrayal of Duncan was not foretold but an active decision they had chosen to partake in. Macbeth shows the dangers of destiny, the dangers of following words that claim truth in events yet to take place. The Tragedy of Macbeth this is the most blatant this theme has been presented, but it’s a thread that can be found throughout the filmography.
In the screwball comedy Burn After Reading, the ideas of destiny and inevitability are not as obvious as a witch seeing into the future but are still what spells doom for the majority of our characters. This is a film where everyone thinks of themselves as the main character, as the most important piece of the puzzle. The contrast between whether the characters believe they are in a romantic comedy, or an espionage thriller, or a conspiracy-tinged drama, is what leads to some of the more hilarious moments in the film. And it’s in this assurance that they are the most important aspect of the story being told that the Coen Brothers philosophy on choice and destiny plays out. Osborne Cox (John Malkovich) believes he is a brilliant political player, unable to see his uselessness in the grand scheme of things, which leads to his spiraling out of control. Linda Litzke (Frances McDormand) and Chad Feldheimer (Brad Pitt) believe they are destined for fame and fortune, leading to Chad’s sudden death. Harry Pfarrer (George Clooney) believes he is a modern-day Cassanova, despite his cheating ways and obvious lies, and this leads to his marriage falling apart and his life being ruined. Every character is chasing what they consider to be their destiny and it is in this pursuit that they are punished. The ability to make choices and know where you stand in the world are the most important aspects of a Coen Brothers film.
Just as important as making choices is indecision. The Brothers are not intent on having their characters (or you) simply sit back and let life happen around you, as this is as great a sin as pursuing a life you believe you must. There are no road maps, no guarantees, and one being led by life instead of leading a life is bound to have misfortune. This is most aptly displayed in their 2009 effort A Serious Man, in which Larry Gopnik (Michael Stuhlbarg) sees his life begin to fall apart not because he is chasing destiny but because he is completely complacent. His wife decides to leave him, his job is in jeopardy, and his children are undisciplined. All this happening can be summed up in his oft-repeated line “I thought everything was fine.” He grew complacent in life, and simply anticipated growth and success. The decision not to act is as catastrophic for our characters as the decision to act.
Larry then also pursues ideas outside of his own choices as to why things are the way they are. He goes looking for spiritual guidance only to find ineptitude and apathy. He looks for reasoning within the rabbi’s tale of words written in teeth, demanding answers when the point is that there are no answers. Larry is the only one in control of his life, and that prospect has terrified him and led him to hiding in plain sight. It is only after Larry finally makes decisions, any decisions, that things begin to right themselves. This doesn’t redeem him from the consequences of those decisions, but it does allow him some aspect of control, the one thing he had completely lost.
The chaotic idealization of destiny is exemplified in the character of Anton Chigurh in No Country for Old Men. Chigurh (Javier Bardem) is a chaotic force that is bound to a code of what he believes should and should not be. He is compelled by only two things, the first being the most primitive of human drives (greed) which is often what those who claim to pursue destiny are actually after. The second being a stringent ethic of chance. Many lives ended by Chigurh are ended by the literal flip of the coin, as Chigurh sees this as predestination. His evil stems from his belief that whatever the coin lands on, that is what was meant to be. The only two people to question this methodology are the gas station attendant, who escapes with his life as he (much like Larry Gopnik) finally makes a decision, and Carla Jean Moss (Kelly Macdonald). Carla Jean refuses outright to choose, forcing Chigurh to confront the fact that, much like Macbeth, he is the one making these choices. The coin is a ruse, and it has only ever been Chigurh who has pulled the trigger.
This confrontation of Chigurh’s philosophy does not save Carla Jean, but it does through a wrench in the life of Chigurh, as now that he finally fully sees his beliefs collapse the world begins to punish him for his misdeeds. The car crash in the immediate aftermath of Carla Jean’s murder is the beginning of the end for Chigurh, for once his ideas of destiny are dismissed he only has himself to blame for the sins he has wrought. While the Coen Brothers do not believe in, they do constantly reinforce the idea of punishment. They want us to control our lives, and if we steer ourselves purposefully into destruction, then destruction should be reigned down upon us. This is why Llewelyn Moss is not spared in No Country For Old Men, for while he is not chasing destiny and he is not lethargic in his actions, he still chose to steer into chaos. Some characters in Coen Brothers films steer into this chaos and come out unscathed (in Burn After Reading Linda Litzke receives everything she wanted in the end) while others do not. The joy and wonder to life, as seen by the Coen Brothers, is making our own path, even if they lead to a dead end.
It is in the spirit of making one’s own path and running away from destiny that Raising Arizona lives. Ed (Holly Hunter) and H. I. (Nicolas Cage) falling in love flies directly in the face of destiny, as it comedically pits cops and robbers on the same side. Throughout the film the reformed H. I. is constantly tempted (and at times falls prey to temptation) to return to the world of crime, while Ed is equally seduced into the world of kidnapping due to her belief she was destined to be a mother. The cop becomes a criminal and the criminal tries to be law-abiding, both fighting against their perceived natural order. But there is no natural order in the world of the Coens, and the couple is well aware of the potential consequences to their actions. While it takes some prodding by motorcycle-riding bounty hunters and two-timing convicts, the couple eventually realizes that the consequences to their schemes are not worth it, and return their beloved kidnapped Nathan Junior to his parents. It’s the acceptance of consequence that saves our heroes this time around.
Actions and consequences are the driving force of the crime drama Miller’s Crossing. Tom Reagan (Gabriel Byrne) sets off the events of the film be initially refusing to allow consequences to actions. He protects his mob boss Leo (Albert Finney) when he makes poor political decisions, he protects his girlfriend Verna (Marcia Gay Harden) from her decision to cheat on Leo, and he protects Verna’s brother Bernie (John Turturro) from death after he skims money off of a mob boss. While from the outside these appear to be acts of kindness and mercy, by preventing consequences for poor decisions he only delays the inevitable or, as the case may be, worsens the situation completely. We can not hide from our responsibilities, and doing so will only cause pain to those around us. Tom Reagan starts as the protector for those he sees as in need, only to realize his responsibilities and the need for consequence.
If Tom Reagan were to continue to allow others to take advantage of him, the only good that would come from it would be a bullet in his head and a shallow grave. He, like all of us, is just a man, and he can only do so much for those who do so little for themselves. When given the chance to save his own life, after pleading for Tom to “have a heart”, Bernie instead chooses to forgo it all for another payday. When given the opportunity to remain the top crime boss in the city, Leo instead chooses to outcast his closest friend. These acts of greed and pettiness, these choices made, can not be made undone by Tom Reagan. In the world of the Coen’s, greed and hedonism can only go without consequence for so long, even if you have an Irishman with a guilty conscience standing in the way.
The scene that best sums up all that I’ve talked about here today though is near the end of their 1996 crime drama Fargo. Marge Gunderson (Frances McDormand), captures Gaear Grimsrud (Peter Stormare) in the act of feeding his partner Carl Showalter (Steve Buscemi) through a woodchipper. After apprehending him and placing him the patrol car, she sits in the front and speaks to him (and the audience).
“So, that was Mrs. Lundegaard on the floor in there. And I guess that
was your accomplice in the wood chipper. And those three people in
Brainerd. And for what? For a little bit of money? There’s more to life
than a little money, you know. Don’tcha know that? And here ya are,
and it’s a beautiful day. Well, I just don’t understand it.”
Throughout the film, Marge Gunderson (and her husband Norm) are the only people making the active decision to do what is right. Every other character has been corrupted, whether by greed or anger or other sins and despite ample opportunity by all of them to make the right decision they always choose otherwise. And down this path only dark and dangerous things lie, whether it’s the murder of Carl due to his greed or the murder of Harve Presnell (Wade Gustafson) due to his hatred of his son-in-law, or the pathetic end of Jerry Lundegaard (William H. Macy) screaming and crying as he’s captured by police in his underwear. All of these ends are of their own creations, all laid out by choices they have made, choices that Marge can’t even fathom. To the Marge Gunderson’s of the world it’s a beautiful day, so why wouldn’t you do something beautiful yourself, whether that be making a life or painting a duck.
Are the Coen Brothers nihilists? That I think comes down to your own interpretation of humanity. If we are all base creatures, greedy and back-stabbing, then that could be an appropriate interpretation. If that is all we are then we are condemned to the consequences of our sins. But if we aren’t, if we choose kindness and gentleness and truth, then we can be saved. There is goodness in humanity, and the Coen Brothers desperately want us to remember that we can all choose good. It’s not destiny, it’s not written in the stars or in our DNA. What we are is what we choose, and that choice is something we make every day.
But that’s just, like, my opinion, man.
Great take! Would love to read your thoughts on The Man Who Wasn't There, Barton Fink, O Brother Where Art Thou, and Blood Simple too.