REVIEW: Fargo

I like to call myself a fan of the Coen Brothers; in reality, I'm a bit of a poser, considering that, up until now, the only one of their films I'd seen was The Big Lebowski. A little shallow to declare myself a "fan" after watching just one film, perhaps, but then I really did just like it that much. Of course I knew I had to explore their other works, and what better place to continue my journey than with the film that really put Ethan and Joel Coen on the map. I am of course referring to their 1994 film, Fargo.

After getting himself in deep through embezzlement, car dealer Jerry Lundegaard (William H. Macy) concocts a scheme to stage a kidnapping. He hires two thugs by the name of Gaear and Carl (Peter Stormare and Steve Buscemi) to abduct his wife, Jean (Kristin Rudrüd), and contact him demanding ransom. Jerry will then extort the ransom money from his father-in-law, pocket half of it, and use the rest to pay off the kidnappers for their services. The plan goes sour, however, and several people are killed. As Jerry's scam spirals out of control, it is up to Police Chief Marge Gunderson (Frances McDormand) to get to the bottom of things and see those responsible put behind bars.

First and foremost, the film is gorgeously shot. Taking place in the American Midwest during the wintertime, snow is naturally everywhere. It's a very white film, literally; in any exterior scene, snow simply dominates the landscape. This leads to a gorgeous bit of visual contrast whenever a death occurs outside, the red blood clashing against the cold, clean white. It makes for a strong visual metaphor, of how something horrid and sinister can invade a landscape so pure and untouched. Really, that's what the entire film is about; perceptions contrasted against what lies within.

Anyone who's seen this movie knows about the accent; with the exception of Buscemi and Stormare, every cast member speaks in a thick Minnesotan tongue, tossing out "you betcha"s and "oh gosh"s with expert skill. It gives everything about the environment of the film a folksy, naive sort of tone; a perception that is shattered when we are shown who these characters truly are, deep inside. For example, take Macy's Jerry; he's a meek family man who is constantly emasculated by both his work and his father-in-law. He hardly swears and wants to cover up his wrongdoing seemingly for his family's sake. That said, he hopes to accomplish this by arranging his own wife to be kidnapped. He keeps all of that impotent rage bottled up inside him, and on the few occasions it escapes, this meager car salesmen turns into an enraged child, throwing brief-but-violent temper tantrums. He strikes you at first as too much of a wimp to hurt anyone, but it's only as the movie goes on that you really start to understand just how despicable and ruthless he is. He's an expert in denial, convinced he's doing what he's doing for the right reasons, even after things have clearly gone too far.

On the flip-side, we have Margie. Quiet, friendly, and seven months pregnant, you wouldn't immediately peg her as a "hero" in the usual sense. Everything about her seems so quaint, yet she's by far the strongest force for good in the entire film. She's no loose-cannon cop on the edge, just a small-town Police Chief trying to do her duty. You really get to know her as a person; in the same way that this humanization makes Jerry all the more deplorable, it makes Marge that much easier to root for. You get a sense of who these characters are as people, rather than as protagonists and antagonists, and that adds a tremendous amount to the weight of the plot. The film has a relatively relaxed pace, but the brief, surprising moments where the tension is ratcheted up become that much more effective thanks to this sense of contrast. If there's one thing this film truly understands, it is contrast, in every sense of the word.

As one would expect from such a cast, the performances here are all spectacular. Steve Buscemi is doing his usual skeezeball routine and it works as well as it always does. I love watching him fly into a rage; something about it is so genuine and real, which makes it that much more entertaining. Peter Stormare says very little but leaves a big impression, managing to convey a very threatening demeanor with little dialog and a lot of murder. Frances McDormand is a delight, coming off as one of my new favorite protagonists of all time. Margie is just so darn likable and easy to pull for, and this is entirely thanks to McDormand's performance. There's no weak link here, but for me the highlight of the cast was definitely William H. Macy. There's so much subtlety and nuance to the character of Jerry, from the way he talks, to the way he moves, to the way he has his brief, impotent fits of rage. His character simply wouldn't have worked, had Macy not understood everything that makes him tick. It's a wonderful thing, watching his scheme slowly deteriorate from just another day at the office to a total debacle that blows up in his face. Come for William H. Macy, but stay for Frances McDormand, that's my advice.

Fargo is, as is to be expected, a wonderful film. Brilliantly shot and wonderfully nuanced, it's just one of those movies that feels good to take in. It does a dozen things at once and succeeds at all of them, never once feeling trite or boring (despite the easygoing pace). The cast is excellent, the cinematography is gorgeous, and the general environment and atmosphere is very unique, especially given the type of movie this is. It's a plot that very easily could have been conveyed as an action-thriller, with pulsing bass and gravely-voiced antiheroes. Instead, the film goes for something a little more subtle and out-there than your usual murder plot fare. If you're looking for a true blue classic, look no further than Fargo. It doesn't disappoint.