Paul Elam, founder of the MRA website A Voice For Men, has said that if men were seen as inherently strong and dominant, males who lack these qualities would be seen as less worthy as men. And that that would be bigotry. Therefore, to say that men be confident and decisive, or that women be graceful and nurturing, is a sin. A little investigation reveals that Kimmel insists that more gender equality is the answer.
Take that last one for example, a man who is beaten by his woman. Yet MRAs deify broken men like these, as the very icon of their movement. He who values strength disdains they that prize weakness. Elsewhere, they campaign for female-on-male rape to be recognized as a serious issue — an issue so marginal that everyone else writes them off as crazy for even bringing it up.
All original site content copyright Cinema Retro Trackback specific URI for this entry. Current Issue Subscribe to Our Magazine. Click on image for information and to order. Now you can order Twilight Time limited edition titles directly from the company web site! Click on ad above. Monday, May 21 Archives September August July Recent You have to figure out different ways to convey ideas. You don't want to overcompensate because the fear is that you're going to be boring if nothing's going on. You start doing this and this and taking off your hat and putting it on again or some bullshit that doesn't need to be there.
So yeah, I was a little afraid of that in the beginning. Peter Travers of Rolling Stone praised the novel adaptation. Good and evil are tackled with a rigorous fix on the complexity involved. Director Joel Coen justified his interest in the McCarthy novel. Because you only saw this person in this movie making things and doing things in order to survive and to make this journey, and the fact that you were thrown back on that, as opposed to any dialogue, was interesting to us.
Coen stated that this is the brothers' "first adaptation". He further explained why they chose the novel: Why not start with the best? He believed that the author liked the film, while his brother Ethan said, "he didn't yell at us. The title is taken from the opening line of 20th-century Irish poet William Butler Yeats ' poem " Sailing to Byzantium ": That is no country for old men. Caught in that sensual music all neglect Monuments of unageing intellect. Richard Gilmore relates the Yeats poem to the Coens' film.
It is also a lament for the way the young neglect the wisdom of the past and, presumably, of the old Yeats chooses Byzantium because it was a great early Christian city in which Plato's Academy , for a time, was still allowed to function. The historical period of Byzantium was a time of culmination that was also a time of transition.
In his book of mystical writings, A Vision , Yeats says, 'I think that in early Byzantium, maybe never before or since in recorded history, religious, aesthetic, and practical life were one, that architect and artificers It is an ideal rarely realized in this world and maybe not even in ancient Byzantium.
Moss has rented a second room adjacent to the Mexicans' room with access to the duct where the money is hidden. Not anything like this. The New York Observer. Chigurh cleans and stitches his own wounds with stolen supplies and sneaks up on Wells at his hotel. That may be partly because it's an adaptation of a book by a contemporary author who's usually spoken of in hushed, respectful, hat-in-hand tones, as if he were a schoolmarm who'd finally brought some sense and order to a lawless town. The concept was Ethan's, who persuaded a skeptical Joel to go with the idea.
Certainly within the context of the movie No Country for Old Men , one has the sense, especially from Bell as the chronicler of the times, that things are out of alignment, that balance and harmony are gone from the land and from the people. Craig Kennedy adds that "one key difference is that of focus. The novel belongs to Sheriff Bell.
Each chapter begins with Bell's narration, which dovetails and counterpoints the action of the main story. Though the film opens with Bell speaking, much of what he says in the book is condensed and it turns up in other forms. Also, Bell has an entire backstory in the book that doesn't make it into the film. The result is a movie that is more simplified thematically, but one that gives more of the characters an opportunity to shine.
Jay Ellis elaborates on Chigurh's encounter with the man behind the counter at the gas station. Where the book describes the setting as 'almost dark', the film clearly depicts high noon: The light through two windows and a door comes evenly through three walls in the interior shots. But this difference increases our sense of the man's desperation later, when he claims he needs to close and he closes at 'near dark'; it is darker, as it were, in the cave of this man's ignorance than it is outside in the bright light of truth.
In advance of shooting, cinematographer Roger Deakins saw that "the big challenge" of his ninth collaboration with the Coen brothers was "making it very realistic, to match the story I'm imagining doing it very edgy and dark, and quite sparse. It's that order of planning. And we only shot , feet, whereas most productions of that size might shoot , or a million feet of film. It's quite precise, the way they approach everything We never use a zoom," he said.
You're actually getting closer to somebody or something. It has, to me, a much more powerful effect, because it's a three-dimensional move. A zoom is more like a focusing of attention. You're just standing in the same place and concentrating on one smaller element in the frame.
Emotionally, that's a very different effect. In a later interview, he mentioned the "awkward dilemma [that] No Country certainly contains scenes of some very realistically staged fictional violence, but We were aware of those similarities, certainly. Director Joel Coen described the process of film making: It's always identical, whether the movie ends up working or not.
I think when you watch the dailies, the film that you shoot every day, you're very excited by it and very optimistic about how it's going to work. And when you see it the first time you put the film together, the roughest cut, is when you want to go home and open up your veins and get in a warm tub and just go away.
And then it gradually, maybe, works its way back, somewhere toward that spot you were at before. After watching this foolhardy but physically gifted and decent guy escape so many traps, we have a great deal invested in him emotionally, and yet he's eliminated, off-camera, by some unknown Mexicans. He doesn't get the dignity of a death scene. The Coens have suppressed their natural jauntiness. They have become orderly, disciplined masters of chaos, but one still has the feeling that, out there on the road from nowhere to nowhere, they are rooting for it rather than against it.
Josh Brolin discussed the Coens' directing style in an interview, saying that the brothers "only really say what needs to be said. They don't sit there as directors and manipulate you and go into page after page to try to get you to a certain place. They may come in and say one word or two words, so that was nice to be around in order to feed the other thing. I'll just watch Ethan go humming to himself and pacing. Maybe that's what I should do, too. Maybe it was because we both [Brolin and Javier Bardem ] thought we'd be fired.
With the Coens, there's zero compliments, really zero anything. And then—I'm doing this scene with Woody Harrelson. Woody can't remember his lines, he stumbles his way through it, and then both Coens are like, 'Oh my God! David Gritten of The Daily Telegraph wonders: We tried to give it the same feeling. The Coens minimized the score used in the film, leaving large sections devoid of music.
The concept was Ethan's, who persuaded a skeptical Joel to go with the idea. There is some music in the movie, scored by the Coens' longtime composer, Carter Burwell , but after finding that "most musical instruments didn't fit with the minimalist sound sculpture he had in mind [ Sound editing and effects were provided by another longtime Coens collaborator, Skip Lievsay , who used a mixture of emphatic sounds gun shots and ambient noise engine noise, prairie winds in the mix.
The Foley for the captive bolt pistol used by Chigurh was created using a pneumatic nail gun. Anthony Lane of The New Yorker states that "there is barely any music, sensual or otherwise, and Carter Burwell's score is little more than a fitful murmur",  and Douglas McFarland states that "perhaps [the film's] salient formal characteristic is the absence, with one telling exception, of a musical soundtrack, creating a mood conducive to thoughtful and unornamented speculation in what is otherwise a fierce and destructive landscape.
But it is there, telling our unconscious that something different is occurring with the toss; this becomes certain when it ends as Chigurh uncovers the coin on the counter. The deepest danger has passed as soon as Chigurh finds and Javier Bardem's acting confirms this and reveals to the man that he has won. Dennis Lim of The New York Times stressed that "there is virtually no music on the soundtrack of this tense, methodical thriller.
Long passages are entirely wordless. In some of the most gripping sequences what you hear mostly is a suffocating silence. The idea here was to remove the safety net that lets the audience feel like they know what's going to happen. I think it makes the movie much more suspenseful.
You're not guided by the score and so you lose that comfort zone. James Roman observes the effect of sound in the scene where Chigurh pulls in for gas at the Texaco rest stop. As the scene opens in a long shot, the screen is filled with the remote location of the rest stop with the sound of the Texaco sign mildly squeaking in a light breeze. The sound and image of a crinkled cashew wrapper tossed on the counter adds to the tension as the paper twists and turns. The intimacy and potential horror that it suggests is never elevated to a level of kitschy drama as the tension rises from the mere sense of quiet and doom that prevails.
Jeffrey Overstreet adds that "the scenes in which Chigurh stalks Moss are as suspenseful as anything the Coens have ever staged. And that has as much to do with what we hear as what we see. No Country for Old Men lacks a traditional soundtrack, but don't say it doesn't have music. The blip-blip-blip of a transponder becomes as frightening as the famous theme from Jaws. The sound of footsteps on the hardwood floors of a hotel hallway are as ominous as the drums of war.
When the leather of a briefcase squeaks against the metal of a ventilation shaft, you'll cringe, and the distant echo of a telephone ringing in a hotel lobby will jangle your nerves.
While No Country for Old Men is a "doggedly faithful" adaptation of McCarthy's novel and its themes, the film also revisits themes which the Coens had explored in their earlier movies Blood Simple and Fargo. Still, the Coens open the film with a voice-over narration by Tommy Lee Jones who plays Sheriff Ed Tom Bell set against the barren Texas country landscape where he makes his home. His ruminations on a teenager he sent to the chair explain that, although the newspapers described the boy's murder of his year-old girlfriend as a crime of passion, "he told me there weren't nothin' passionate about it.
Said he'd been fixin' to kill someone for as long as he could remember. Said if I let him out of there, he'd kill somebody again. Said he was goin' to hell. Reckoned he'd be there in about 15 minutes. And their impact has been improved upon in the delivery. When I get the DVD of this film, I will listen to that stretch of narration several times; Jones delivers it with a vocal precision and contained emotion that is extraordinary, and it sets up the entire film.
In The Village Voice , Scott Foundas writes that "Like McCarthy, the Coens are markedly less interested in who if anyone gets away with the loot than in the primal forces that urge the characters forward In the end, everyone in No Country for Old Men is both hunter and hunted, members of some endangered species trying to forestall their extinction.
New York Times critic A. Scott observes that Chigurh, Moss, and Bell each "occupy the screen one at a time, almost never appearing in the frame together, even as their fates become ever more intimately entwined. Variety critic Todd McCarthy describes Chigurh's modus operandi: Occasionally, however, he will allow someone to decide his own fate by coin toss, notably in a tense early scene in an old filling station marbled with nervous humor.
Jim Emerson describes how the Coens introduced Chigurh in one of the first scenes when he strangles the deputy who arrested him: Our first blurred sight of Chigurh's face As he moves forward, into focus, to make his first kill, we still don't get a good look at him because his head rises above the top of the frame. His victim, the deputy, never sees what's coming, and Chigurh, chillingly, doesn't even bother to look at his face while he garrotes him.
Critic Peter Bradshaw of The Guardian stated that "the savoury, serio-comic tang of the Coens' film-making style is recognisably present, as is their predilection for the weirdness of hotels and motels". But he added that they "have found something that has heightened and deepened their identity as film-makers: Certain virtuoso sequences feel near-abstract in their focus on objects, sounds, light, colour or camera angle rather than on human presence Notwithstanding much marvellous deadpan humour, this is one of their darkest efforts.
Arne De Boever believes that there is a "close affinity, and intimacy even, between the sheriff and Chigurh in No Country for Old Men [which is developed] in a number of scenes. There is, to begin with, the sheriff's voice at the beginning of the film, which accompanies the images of Chigurh's arrest. This initial weaving together of the figures of Chigurh and the sheriff is further developed later on in the film, when the sheriff visits Llewelyn Moss' trailer home in search for Moss and his wife, Carla Jean.
Chigurh has visited the trailer only minutes before, and the Coen brothers have the sheriff sit down in the same exact spot where Chigurh had been sitting which is almost the exact same spot where, the evening before, Moss joined his wife on the couch. Like Chigurh, the sheriff sees himself reflected in the dark glass of Moss' television, their mirror images perfectly overlapping if one were to superimpose these two shots.
When the sheriff pours himself a glass of milk from the bottle that stands sweating on the living room table—a sign that the sheriff and his colleague, deputy Wendell Garret Dillahunt , only just missed their man—this mirroring of images goes beyond the level of reflection, and Chigurh enters into the sheriff's constitution, thus further undermining any easy opposition of Chigurh and the sheriff, and instead exposing a certain affinity, intimacy, or similarity even between both. In an interview with Charlie Rose , co-director Joel Coen acknowledged that "there's a lot of violence in the book," and considered the violence depicted in the film as "very important to the story".
He further added that "we couldn't conceive it, sort of soft pedaling that in the movie, and really doing a thing resembling the book Los Angeles Times critic Kenneth Turan commented on the violence depicted in the film: