No Country For Old Men

This film has been on my To Do list for months. The Coen brothers directed Fargo, an all-time personal favourite – but NCFOM stars the incredible Javier Bardem of The Sea Inside, The Dancer Upstairs and perhaps other The-Noun-Presposition films, so I was extra-excited. Then I had to calm myself because obviously being extra-excited is to invite anti-climax. Sadly I didn’t calm sufficiently.

It was visually stunning. The direction, the cinematography were faultless. The acting was fantastic: subtle, funny, believable. Javier was sinister. Tommy Lee Jones finally managed to redeem himself after The Fugitive, something I never believed possible. And I was pathetically proud of the awesome Kelly Macdonald who actually made me want to boast about my Glaswegian heritage.

But the plot let the side down: despite so many superb contingent parts, the story didn’t manage to justify the film. It wasn’t merely its bleakness: I know enough about life not to expect a satisfying beginning, middle and end, but this pointed to being a thriller and then singularly failed to thrill. Still, no regrets. Even despite the criminal lack of legroom at Islington’s Screen on the Green, for better or worse, it had to be seen.