Directed by: Ethan and Joel Coen
Starring: Tommy Lee Jones, Josh Brolin, Javier Bardem, Garret Dillahunt, Woody Harrelson, Gene Jones, Beth Grant
Rating: R

Tommy Lee Jones in No Country for Old Men. (Courtesy photo)

The Coen Brothers are up to their old shenanigans again. Finally, after nearly a decade of coy, hollow-style exercises (The Man Who Wasn’t There, Intolerable Cruelty, The Ladykillers), the men better loved for Raising Arizona, Fargo, and The Big Lebowski have gone all the way back to their roots to find their magic toolbox. No Country For Old Men is closest in spirit to Blood Simple, the incisive little western noir that introduced the Coen brothers 23 years ago. In adapting Cormac McCarthy’s 2005 novel of the same name, the brothers have found a kindred spirit in their love of austere settings populated with flawed men. And McCarthy’s dialogue is only enhanced by their fascination with American dialects and speech patterns. Somehow in this melancholy, violent tale set on the Texas-Mexico border of 1980, they have tapped into a vein of humanity long absent in their work.

Vietnam vet and antelope hunter Llewelyn Moss (Josh Brolin) stumbles upon the aftermath of a drug deal gone wrong out in the desert. He finds a case full of money, brings it back to his trailer and informs his wife, Carla Jean (Kelly MacDonald), that their lives are about to fall apart. Soon the all-too-prescient Llewelyn is being chased by psychopath Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem), who likes to blow holes in locks and people’s heads with a captive bolt pistol. Also in the hunt, but at a much more reluctant pace, is Sheriff Ed Tom Bell (Tommy Lee Jones). Bell is the latest and perhaps most dispirited of a long line of sheriffs. But he knows what kind of horrible man Chigurh is, and is determined to save Llewelyn and Carla Jean from him.

Like the best of the Coen brother films, No Country gains much of its substance from memorable role players. Garret Dillahunt (Deadwood, John from Cincinnati) at first seems like the standard dimwitted deputy to Sheriff Tom. But while he may be out of his league on this particular job, Dillahunt’s Wendell is no fool. Veteran stage and TV actor Gene Jones has an unforgettable exchange with Bardem’s Chigurh in a desolate gas station. Jones and Bardem turn perhaps the script’s most heightened dialogue into a scene of such honest tension, it will probably be performed in acting classes for years.

But these are the Coens, and darned if they can’t leave well enough alone. Near the end, they make a storytelling choice that will impress some, but exasperate many more. It’s impossible to describe the event without giving away far too much, except to say that it is hugely important. As is the case with any movie, the Coens establish rules by which we can safely assume the story will unfold—how much information we’ll be granted concerning each character, whose point of view we’re watching the story through, etc. But the Coens break these rules in a big way. It’s not nearly enough to bring down the film, but it may distract you from the final 15 minutes or so; it certainly distracted me. It’s almost as if the Coens knew their film would catapult them back into the filmmaking elite, but they had to let out one raspberry on the way.

Tommy Lee Jones has played weary enforcers of the law too many times, but that doesn’t make him any less ideal for the role of Sheriff Bell. Jones gets the most delectable lines, and it’s hard to imagine anyone delivering them with easier dispatch. Bell is a man full of sorrow, though we only get hints of what and why. His struggle is an internal one—do his efforts have any real meaning out here? For me, that isn’t as compelling as the straight, very external struggle facing Llewelyn. But that doesn’t diminish Jones’ performance. Javier Bardem (Before Night Falls) makes an indelible impact as Chigurh. He is among the most terrifying killers to slip onto celluloid in some time. Best of all is the guy in the least showy role. Josh Brolin, who is having quite a year (Planet Terror, In the Valley of Elah, American Gangster), makes outgunned Llewelyn into such a charming and resourceful rogue that we invest in him far more, I suspect, than the filmmakers anticipate. British actress Kelly MacDonald (The Girl in the Café) plays Carla Jean as overwhelmed yet fearless, and she’s terrific. Woody Harrelson is great, too, as another piece of damaged goods who gets involved in the hunt. The only miss is the usually fine Beth Grant (Little Miss Sunshine), who plays Carla Jean’s crotchety mother like she’s on the Grand Ole Opry.

Now if Woody Allen can just get back to form, we’ll have recovered our most wayward filmmaking talents of recent years. No Country For Old Men is an expertly woven tale of injustice. Yet even at its darkest, the movie never stops bubbling with a kind of thrilling vitality. Regardless of how you feel about the event mentioned above (and it is destined to be debated for years), you must admire the film’s refusal to wrap up neatly. The Coen Brothers may still have some anti-audience habits, but it’s very gratifying to have them back.

Alex Manugian lives in Sherman Oaks, California, and works for the Cartoon Network. He grew up in Groton and has reviewed movies for Harvard residents for many years.