Film Review:

Over lingering shots of the arid southwest Texas landscape, Sheriff Ed Tom Bell begins unwinding the tale of “No Country for Old Men” in a reminiscence tinged with regret. “I was sheriff of this county when I was 25 years old,” he says in wistful voiceover, before he remembers a time when some law enforcement agents either didn’t need firearms or didn’t choose to wear guns.

Bell, played with an air of sad resignation by Tommy Lee Jones, becomes embroiled in the machinations of the spare plot of the film, directed by Joel and Ethan Coen. Based on the 2005 novel by Cormac McCarthy, who has been called America’s greatest living writer, guns and other instruments of death and destruction figure prominently into this sad meditation on America, which is set in 1980 but feels contemporary in the themes it explores.

We soon learn that guns alone are no match for the evil to be visited upon these characters’ hard, colorless lives. The specter of Anton Chigurh, played with creepy disaffection by Javier Bardem, stalks the land like a sociopathic grim reaper, with a heavy emphasis on “grim.” Anton kills often and with abandon. To him, death is either a game to be played with a flip of the coin, or an obligation to which he is bound out of a perverted sense of honor.

Anton has killed two people by the time we meet the character of Llewelyn Moss, the film’s flawed protagonist. Josh Brolin brings Moss to life with a squinting, leather-faced performance that recalls Clint Eastwood’s demeanor in “High Plains Drifter” or that of Heath Ledger’s conflicted cowboy in “Brokeback Mountain.” A hunter and a loner, Moss is a man of action who embodies the strong, silent stereotype.

The parable turns around Moss, a Vietnam veteran who comes upon a scene of carnage on one of his hunting trips when he discovers a drug deal gone bad in the desert. Everyone’s been killed, even the dealers’ dogs, a point which eventually elicits more comments than the fact that human beings have been mowed down in a grisly gunfight.

Moss discovers one of the men involved has survived the shootout but is too weak to walk out by himself. Refusing him assistance, Moss leaves the scene to track the “last man out,” who he finds dead along with a satchel containing over $2 million in cash.

Returning with the drug dealers’ money to the mobile home he shares with his wife, Carla Jean, Moss embarks on his journey of regret and paranoia. His “luck” in finding the money quickly becomes a burden too heavy to bear.

Most of the bad luck that befalls Moss and the other characters stems from fact that Chigurh is sent to retrieve the money by the shady businessmen who put it up for the deal in the first place. Chigurh quickly dials in on Moss, who sends Carla Jean packing to her mother’s while he goes on the lam with the loot.

His paranoia increases in direct proportion to the bleating beeps emanating from a radio frequency tracking device that Chigurh uses to tell him if he’s hot or cold on the money’s trail.

What ensues can hardly be called a fair fight, given Chigurh’s soulless evil and a haircut alone that could scare you to death. Despite its matter-of-fact depiction of violence, the film is less grisly than it could have been.

Much of its power lies in its ability to evoke psychological terror in the character of Chigurh. He mocks his victims (and some of the conventions of action/thriller dialogue: “You know you don’t have to do this …”) before he sends them to their great hereafters.

The character of Moss’s wife Carla Jean (played by Kelly Macdonald), doesn’t ask a lot of questions and does pretty much as she is told by her man, leading to all kinds of avoidable circumstances. Eventually, she learns to stand up for herself, but too little and too late.

In a memorable scene the woman, played by Kathy Lamkin, who worked at the front desk of the trailer park Mosses called home, was unbowed by Chigurh’s menacing manner. She refuses to give him any information as to Moss’ whereabouts during the day. It’s a nerve-wracking moment in the film, but one which leads to a tiny bit of mental retribution for all those the killer has harmed.

Directors Joel and Ethan Coen, whose previous films as writers and directors include “Blood Simple,” “Fargo,” “Barton Fink,” and “The Big Lebowski”, present a harrowing view of an America already past the tipping point, where money, drugs and guns rule and nice guys finish not just last, but dead last.

Like many of their other works, this R-rated film stays with you long after its abrupt, “Sopranos”-like ending. While there is irony aplenty here, what “No Country for Old Men” lacks is its directors previously artful use of their dry, bracing humor, which would have provided some relief against the grief of McCarthy’s sordid vision.

WESLEY BAUSMITH occasionally writes film reviews for the Valley Sun. Write him in care of lcnews@valleysun.net. WESLEY BAUSMITH occasionally writes film reviews for the Valley Sun. Write him in care of lcnews@valleysun.net.