No Country for Old Men won the best movie of the year last night at the Academy Awards. I thought it would. I thought it was ghastly and brilliant. I only went to see it because Cormac McCarthy wrote the novel. I'm tired of violent films. But this film was so original in its character. The character was everything. The plot was the usual hunt him down and kill him cat and mouse or monster against monster or psychopath against resilient clever thief. Okay, the plot was good, too. Javier Bardem's character, the psychopath, was brilliantly conceived. The psychopath wins. Everyone does an amazing acting job. Is it a great film?
It was tense every second. It never let up. There were some wonderfully engineered moments of lightness, (dire comedy), in a completely terrifying imaginative escapade of blood and gore, of hunt and game. The theme was embodied in the sheriff, played by Tommy Lee Jones: we are a violent bunch and the world has gone to hell in a handbasket.
But the world has always been this way; when wasn't it? When Gandhi was asked what he thought of western civilization, he said, "I think it would be a good idea."
No country for old men. Or women or children. But this is where we live.
I broke a television once. I kicked it in the mouth with my Frye boot. And I once hit my father with a huge purse; it was more like a feed bag for a horse. We were in Wells Fargo Bank. The manager came storming out of his office shouting, "We don't allow domestic violence in Wells Fargo!" Really. He said that. Those were two of my violent acts in my life. I've had a few others.
What about you?
Causes Susan Browne Supports
Run Together, A Race to Raise Money for Leukemia and Lymphoma Society