the latest cohen brothers’ film, “no country for old men,” sets up the dramatic edifice of our country as CONDITION, the land as politik; the tension between environment and character, identifiable IN the land itself… yet without precedence over the man and his condition (which comes from the land and colors the land). the film leaves a standing stark image of ideals, evil and its opposition–which is not “good”–but survival, conditioned man, acting in WHATEVER manner necessary. the word ‘evil’ may be out of place here… yet the force of antagonism in this film, a character called ‘anton sugur’, pronounced “suh-grr” is utterly unpredictable in philosophy and bizzarrerie, he’s an archetype, a ghost, and a ferociously sober killer, who dupes his opposition, the law man played by tommy lee jones with zero effort, like a force of nature taking the roof off a house or filling a schoolhouse with water. the best line in the film to describe his philosophy (after he’s flipped a coin that the viewer can see is the hinge of an innocent man’s life, and this man chooses “correctly”), “DON’T put it in your pocket–” the gas station owner, simple, tied to this one postage stamp of earth begs whyfore… “because it will mix in with the other coins and you will lose track of it as just another coin… [long pause] … which it is.” there is pure consciousness here, zero conscience in its typical form, but unlimited unadulterated presence on the part of this force of death, this principle boiled down into the form of a man. the pivotal character in the film, a man you don’t really grow to ‘like’ but who creates the impetus for the rolling cause and effect waltz away from a lethal and horribly bunged drug deal, named Llewelyn Moss, exhibits no fear and walks boldly out of this tits-up embroilment with $2M and involves himself only because he brings water back to a man left alive, only because he cared to be curious. this simple move makes the film happen. and the whole plot unravels systematically out of a symbol presented at the very outset. Llewelyn is hunting for antelope in the desert with a 30-6 scoped rifle; it rests easily on his boot, he is breathing, hunting, being himself in the world, takes aim and hits but does not kill one of these beautiful animals. he curses, puts his boot back on and goes out in search of the wounded animal. out in the flat of the sagebrush he detects movement far off to his right and snaps binocs up to examine it: instead of the wounded antelope he sights a black pitbull limping away from him; the dog slows and looks back at the hunter expectantly, teasing in his dark way. and thus begins the dramatic motion: what you thought a priori was an innocent activity becomes a matter of dire importance as your life turns over the wheel in a small series of small changes.
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