FARGO (66)

Directed by: Joel Coen (and Ethan Coen)

Starring: Frances McDormand, William H. Macy, Steve Buscemi

The Pitch: Midwestern loser's plan to arrange his wife's kidnapping and collect the ransom from his rich father-in-law goes gruesomely wrong.

Theo Sez: The Coens' least satisfying film, without even the compensatory stylistic dazzle of BARTON FINK; yet, in terms of thematic coherence and crafted, specific atmosphere, it's the equal of anything they've ever done. It creates a world both plausible and fantastic, a subtly absurd extension of the stereotypical Midwest, a repressed snow-shrouded place of plastic, superficial smiles and emotional taciturnity - trying to keep at bay the awfulness of the world which, by the end, is an attitude the film seems very much to approve of. Certainly, as in RAISING ARIZONA, the charge of condescending towards "Everyman" characters (made by those who see the Coens as callous smartasses) is quite groundless, but in this case compassion seems to shade over into genuine empathy: the film seems almost to be condemning those small-towners who rock the boat by trying to make a fast buck, siding with those who cocoon themselves in the small pleasures of a quiet life. Despite the rather scary isolationist implications, that's not really a problem in itself - indeed the ending, Marge and her husband affirming their love for each other, is magnificently touching. Trouble is, it robs the film of the manic sense of life that makes the Coens' work so intoxicating. There's always a Sturgesian world of glorious excess in their worldview - the world that Barton Fink, an absurd figure, never understood - but in this case the excess is sour and murderous, a scary gory place to be avoided (perhaps the film just needed more charismatic villains). The result is a careful film curiously lacking in emotional tension - the shield of Midwestwern equanimity is just too implacable (which is a good joke, but also a sad one). It's an easy movie to admire, a near-impossible one to get giddy on.