Joel Coen's love for movie making is quite exceptional. He pampers his movies as if it were his little children. He dresses them up pretty, almost dandies them. Occasionally making them up too much -- sometimes developing in them an inner conflict that almost brings them down.
Man who wasn't there -- falls in that category. A dark detached comi-tragic tale of an unamused barber who's hesitant attempt to be somewhere triggers a series of baffling events in the true noir fashion laced with an undertone of dry humor that lead to pain and deliverance.
Billy Bob Thronton is the man in the title. He delivers the movie in voice-over. If a man ever came close to being the best actor in a movie simply for smoking inordinately and not really acting at all then this is our man. His large craggy face enmeshed in strong vertical criss-cross of utter boredom is used to a fantastic effect by the director and the cinematographer to set the tone of the film. It is not too hard to understand the motivation behind Mr, Thronton’s actions. However it is not always so easy to understand Mr. Coen’s motives.
Coen brothers round up a fantastic support crew as usual. Francis McDormand as the ambitious confused wife, James Gandolfini as her stupid lover, Michael Badalucco as her sutpid brother are all excellent and credible.
This is a metaphorical tale – too many metaphors – not easily clear what they stand for or why. Most of them drive your curiosity wild. They must mean something to someone. The film is in Black and White – the most important symbol – hovering over us like a dark all encompassing cloud.
This is an unforgettable film anyway -- if you can see the humour behind the entire sequence of seemingly tragic events. Coen brothers have pulled it off again.
Man who wasn't there -- falls in that category. A dark detached comi-tragic tale of an unamused barber who's hesitant attempt to be somewhere triggers a series of baffling events in the true noir fashion laced with an undertone of dry humor that lead to pain and deliverance.
Billy Bob Thronton is the man in the title. He delivers the movie in voice-over. If a man ever came close to being the best actor in a movie simply for smoking inordinately and not really acting at all then this is our man. His large craggy face enmeshed in strong vertical criss-cross of utter boredom is used to a fantastic effect by the director and the cinematographer to set the tone of the film. It is not too hard to understand the motivation behind Mr, Thronton’s actions. However it is not always so easy to understand Mr. Coen’s motives.
Coen brothers round up a fantastic support crew as usual. Francis McDormand as the ambitious confused wife, James Gandolfini as her stupid lover, Michael Badalucco as her sutpid brother are all excellent and credible.
This is a metaphorical tale – too many metaphors – not easily clear what they stand for or why. Most of them drive your curiosity wild. They must mean something to someone. The film is in Black and White – the most important symbol – hovering over us like a dark all encompassing cloud.
This is an unforgettable film anyway -- if you can see the humour behind the entire sequence of seemingly tragic events. Coen brothers have pulled it off again.