Hey folks, our favorite Pom Pom wielding Slut, Courtney Pierce is back... and is sallying on up to the keyboard to begin spilling about the latest genius from the Brothers' Coen. I have now... officially been awake too long, now it's time to plug into the unconcious activity machine. Adios...
That Bourgeois Tamed-By-No-Man Pom-Pom Slut Courtney Pierce is back with a look at O Brother, Where Art Thou?
The Coen Brothers' newest endeavor is a delightful picaresque mosey through Depression-era Mississippi that finds equal inspiration in Homer's Odyssey (wait until you see the sirens) and the humanist comedies of Preston Sturges (those of you who have seen Sturges' Sullivan's Travels already know the source of the title; there's also an explicit Sullivan's reference in this film just after what may be the funniest fight scene ever put on film, between Clooney and Ray McKinnon over the lovely Penny). George Clooney delivers a stylized performance as pomade-craving paterfamilias Ulysses Everett McGill that is off-putting for about two minutes and then, as the film's tone orients itself to his playing level, becomes another winner for him. John Turturro, well, proves once again that he is John Turturro and that he is one of the reigning character actors in the business. The third member of the triumvirate, Delmar, played by newcomer Tim Blake Nelson, is a find. His work here is a starmaking performance if ever I have seen one, filled with passion and reserve. Look for this name in the future, you heard it here first.
The film is fairly episodic in structure, with several misadventures happening throughout the countryside. NewsRadio & Office Space's Stephen Root as a radio broadcaster is transcendently funny, soul-selling bluesman Tommy Johnson (played by Chris Thomas King) brings a precise level of accomplishment and dignity to a unique character, and Michael Badalucco adds George & Babyface Nelson to his gallery of famous killers. That's not even mentioning John Goodman as a one-eyed bible salesman/Klansman or Charles Durning in what may be his finest comic performance since The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas as Incumbent Governor Pappy O'Daniel, or any of the other interesting people who pop up during the course of the film, including a possibly-enchanted toad.
Beautifully shot by the brilliant Roger Deakins (Kundun, Fargo) in resplendent scope (actually Super 35, but you can hardly tell), the Brothers tell a quirky and moving story. There is a shot near the end of the film of pomade cans, police, a cow, and several actors that is simply breathtaking.
Gone is the destructive irony that rendered Fargo so distasteful (yes, fanboys, I didn't like Fargo), and the emotional resonance of Barton Fink and The Big Lebowski has been increased. While on the surface O Brother, Where Art Thou is a road comedy, it has a defiantly big heart and truly likable characters. When you add in the excellent music (which plays a huge part in the film- to what extent I daren't reveal) and the twisted glee that Joel and Ethan take in telling the tale, what you have is a delightful film. Will mainstream audiences go for it? Doubtful. It's not easily pigeonholed into any category, and that hurt Lebowski as well. But banish that from your mind, and enjoy the bonafide ride.
As always, the dude abides.
