'Fargo' Provides Cold Comfort, Coen Style

Joel and Ethan Coen return to their roots with their new film "Fargo," set in Minnesota where they grew up. "Fargo" is also a return to the world of the grisley murder, a genre which owes a lot to the Coens, who have written and directed five films together. Back when Quentin Tarantino and John Dahl were still just film geeks, Joel and Ethan Coen made "Blood Simple," a completely original and seductively seedy neo-noir. The film propelled them into the spotlight, where, for a time, they were "the" cool independant filmmakers. Now, of course, we have lesser directors hosting "Saturday Night Live" and telling us what is hip and what isn't.

Rather than basking in transient glamour, the Coens have focused on making films. And why not? They may be the most talented team working today. A string of successes including the wild "Raising Arizona," the brilliant "Miller's Crossing" and the endearing "Barton Fink" ended recently with a near miss, "The Hudsucker Proxy." After that film, which required a huge budget (by Coen standards) and lots of sound stage shooting, it is no wonder that they opted for a smaller film like "Fargo."

"Fargo" opens with a lonely shot of a highway cutting across the frozen plains of the midwest. In the distance, the line of the horizon is blurred by the grey sky and snow-covered ground. This may be the only scene in the film without clearly defined visual and narrative lines. Instead a cold, dark mood takes hold. Somwhere in the distance, the Coens seem to be telling us, awful things are about to happen, and we're going to be witnesses.

Jerry Lundegaard (Willaim H. Macy) is a car salesman in trouble and in debt. As his wealthy father in-law won't knowingly help, Jerry decides to kidnap the in-law's daughter, his own wife. He expects the ransom money will solve most of his problems. This twisted idea is emblematic of the moral decay that contaminates many characters in "Fargo."

Jerry hires two thugs, the meek Carl Showalter (Steve Buscemi) and deadly Gaear Grimsrud (Peter Stormare) from Fargo, North Dakota, to execute the plan. Unfortunately, Carl and Gaear are incompetant, and a botched kidnapping leads quickly to successful murder.

Of course, not every midwesterner is a psycopath who plots the kidnapping of family members. This could never be more obvious than in Brainard, where the victims are discovered. Everyone knows everyone, and double homicides are rare. Marge Gunderson (Frances McDormand) is the visibly pregnant, and apparantly naive, chief of police in Brainard. Her husband is a wildlife painter who brings her lunch every day and frets over a contract to design the three cent stamp.

In Brainard people tell it like it is, even if it isn't pretty. If you think it's the smell of the bodies at the crime scene that makes Marge puke, you're wrong. It's morning sickness. Marge may look as innocent as the child inside her and she probably is. But she's also tough and smart. She's a pregnant version of Philip Marlowe but with more charisma. With acute intuition Marge quickly traces Jerry to Carl and Gaear. More tenacious than the average pit bull, it is only matter of time before Marge has them behind bars.

"Fargo" may be more impressive in what it succeeded in avoiding than what it accomplished. Roger Deakins' photography, for example, is so utterly pure that it is unnoticeable. The stark, cold tones of Deakin's pallete are perfect. The chill running up your spine throughout the film is a testement to his skill.

The light touch of the writing and directing of the film is crucial to its success. A film whose intentions are clear might have been doomed by didactic dialogue and heavy-handed direction. Thankfully, the message is obscured somewhat by the layers of the film. The Coens let the plot flow naturally, injecting virile doses of Minnesota wit at just the right times.

But this is still McDormand's film. The Coens wrote "Fargo" with her in mind, knowing her talents and recognizing her unassuming charm. Her performance is the kind of personal effort that leaves the viewer with the sense of having made a life long friend. The only sad part is that we may never see her again.

If one comes away from the film with a little more respect for the country bumpkin, well, maybe they deserve it and maybe this film just works.