The Western is most certainly not dead

Rating: 8/10 (2 December 2007)

Cormac McCarthy finally gets a movie worthy of him. Astonishing performances (esp. from Josh Brolin and Javier Bardem) and absolutely masterful cinematography mix with a deceptively simple narrative. Indeed, Bardem at times reaches the level of Hopkins as Hannibal Lecter in his character's creepiness. This film is like a much blacker Fargo. The Coens wonderfully use Texan slang ("It's a mess, ain't it?" asks one character, to which Tommy Lee Jones' replies "If it ain't, it'll do till the real one gets here.") for various purposes--building tension, playing with ideas, relieving tension.
McCarthy's recurring question, which was front and center in All The Pretty Horses-- is there such a thing as a meaningful code of honour?-- is tossed around, sometimes casually, sometimes horrifically. His deeper concern-- a mythic interest in what we might call karma, or the inescapable balancing act the Universe makes, or the relentless absurdist logic of obligation-- unfolds through various kinds of horror.
The film's only weak point is its occasional moralising speeches. It is as if the Brothers worried-- as did Coleridge of his speaker's impact int he Rime of the Ancient Mariner, a poem with more than a few similarities to this film-- that the sheer power of their story would overwhelm its moral concerns. But ultimately this is the Coens at their best.