B and I are on a little movie kick these days, and last night we selected No Country For Old Men. Critics gave it an A, and the film and its crew were showered with Academy Awards the other night. Plus, Tommy Lee Jones is really cute, so how cold we miss?
Within eight seconds of our arrival, my blood was running cold. Set against the backdrop of the dreariest old western landscape, Josh Brolin was making one gruesome discovery after another. Soon he made the fateful mistake of absconding with two million dollars he liberated from a rotting carcass, and the hunt began.
Enter the creepiest m-f-ing villain you have ever laid your tender eyes upon. Dark and silent, tall and relentless, with eyes can that could turn you to stone. Or at least make you cry. Granted I am prone to some exaggeration at times, but this man was so sinister I wanted to leave the theater. His gaze bore a hole straight through my heart, and I literally trembled throughout the entire movie. As crazy as it sounds, his face was not his most frightening feature, nor was his modified oxygen tank murder weapon. It was his hair. When a fraction of my terror subsided a bit, I was commenting to myself that his medieval pageboy was really the source of my fear, and that's when Brandy leaned over and whispered, "What's up with that Prince Valiant hairdo?" It was the only smile I was afforded the entire night.
So grim guy tracks dumb luck guy, in search of the money, and our audience was breathless for two hours. This pursuit was so chilling, so hopeless, and so so bloody, no one made a peep. You could actually hear my nails tearing the flesh of B's arm.
Spoiling the ending isn't really a problem here, because A) the Coen brothers spoil their own endings, and B) this post is about Javier Bardem being the most ominous son of a bitch in the history of my cinematic life. So disturbing is he that I refused to believe, when Sam told me, that he actually had a name. That he could have an actual mother, or worse, that he is walking around somewhere. I think he should be imprisoned just for looking like that.
After dropping B off and managing to make it home without him popping up in my back seat, I immediately Googled him to see if he was in fact human. Surprisingly, he is, and does have a mother, and even smiles! This latter fact was the only reason I got any sleep last night at all.
So, do I recommend the movie? Um...yes, if you like to lose control of your bowels, no if you require satisfying endings.
But I consider it a badge of honor to have survived. B, sorry I mutilated your arm. Go heavy on the Neosporin!
6 comments:
You know what made the movie even creepier? The stench of death that filled the theater. It was so bad I almost complained, but I'm pretty sure it came from that ancient poodle sitting two rows up with the wheel-chair guy.*
Every time the screen flashed to one of those rotting dog carcasses, I thought yep, that's exactly what this theater smells like. Maybe they should have charged us more for the surround-smell multimedia event.
* yes, I know it's not PC to call him wheelchair-guy. Shoot me with an air compressor.
Count me as one who likes satisfying endings.
I have long loved Javier because of all the sexy roles I've seen him in. This movie freaked that all out of me and I have to admit I would have felt much more positive about this villain had he a different haircut. Any hairstyle but that one! Any!
I didn't read your post because I'm patiently awaiting this movie from Netflix. I can't wait to see it! BTW - I'm totally finished with Season 1 of Dexter - are you guys all the way through yet?
You forgot to mention your in-movie diversion tactic! :)
Ugh. He's just scary. And the ending just SUCKS.
I've not yet seen it, but I want to. It can't be any worse than Barton Fink, can it? OK, Barton Fink wasn't suspenseful... but it was the most frighteningly bad movie the Coen brothers could ever possibly make.
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