catapult magazine

I’ll start this baby.

What was everyone’s initial reaction to this film?

As I may have already mentioned, it was one of my favorite films of last year. I remember that upon leaving the theatre after seeing it for the first time, simple actions like throwing away my Coke cup and unlocking my car door took on a sort of new significance and freshness. I was totally captivated for the whole film and very affected by it.

I do wonder, why the incredibly strong style? It’s about an inch from being a parody of film noir, it seems. I realize that it wouldn’t be the same movie if presented any other way, but could they have told the story in a different style? Why was it important and what’s the relationship between style and the story (form and content?)?

If jason gets to start this baby, then I get to change its diaper.
Why the strong style? Well, here’s my take on it. I think the Coen Brothers concern themselves with film history more than a lot of other directors. All of their films are rehashing a distinct style and making it their own, sort of re-forming history. I think you can see this in their films: lots of repeated images, shapes, dialogue, etc. But their films are very much recycled genres from the 30s, 40s, and 50s. The majority of their filmography is in one way or another film noir: Blood Simple—noir in the desert, Miller?s Crossing—gangster noir, Barton Fink—noir of the id/Hollywood noir, Fargo—noir in the snow, The Big Lebowski- Rayomond Chandler/James L. Cain noir deconstructed. The Man Who Wasn?t There seems to me to be the unavoidable product of years of filmmaking for the Coens.
The movies I left out are part of a proud history of screwball comedies going back to It Happened One Night?Raising Arizona, Hudsucker Proxy (owing much to Frank Capra), and O Brother Where Art Thou (owing much to Preston Struges). So the Coen?s really have a strong sense of history and they enjoy playing with that.
Grant said we should all reread the Plato?s metaphor of the cave. I can see where he?s coming from; even the abundance of shadows plays nicely with that concept, although its first and foremost a necessity of style. If those ideas are there, then they correlate almost directly with the noir themes that drench this movie.
I?m digressing now. Why the strong style? Could it be told in any different way? I say no, it couldn?t, because it’s not really their style. They simply decided to work within this certain framework of noir. In a sense, it?s strong style is distinctively Coen, not noir. They?re just working with an established genre and putting their own spin on it. Like, this isn?t Shakespeare; this is Peter Brook Shakespeare. They are making Coen film noir. Yes, it was close to being a parody, but even with during noir?s heyday in the 40s, there was cheap B-movie noir that is almost a parody of itself, so the style is pretty distinctive. The big question for me is what?s their stylespin? I don?t know; I’m still working on that one.

I don’t know the process of changing diapers that well. I know that there’s wiping involved at some point and I don’t want to be the one who does that part. But I digress.

Yeah, I saw the noir style as adding immensely to the humor. The efficient dialogue of noir that gives it a sleek style is interrupted and turned on its head in “The Man Who…”. One such example is the use of the cops, particularly the scene where the “autopsist” tells our hero what he found in the autopsy (I’m trying not to give anything away for those who will see it this weekend). Though the “autopsist” thinks he’s adding to the drama, the scene falls apart and adds nothing but an awkward moment to an already unstory-like story.

What kind of a person is this who demands our attention? I mean, really! What kind of pathetic hero is this who can’t even assert himself against a lawn-care salesman!

Our “cool” and collected cigarette-bearing hero is a tumbleweed who lets others tell his story, who lets the story tell itself at his expense. This realization is best set up by the noir style which establishes a mode of storytelling we are used to. Because of the use of noir techniques, we understand just how unstory-worthy, just how invisible this man really is. The only way to end a story like this is with a great light of revelation, with the light of the really real world that makes sense of what we thought was real, but turned out only to be shadows.

I hope I was ambiguous enough not to ruin the movie for those who haven’t seen it while making a point for those who have.

Yeah, that makes sense. The other barbers are another foil to noir’s efficent dialogue. I hadn’t thought about that scene with the county coriner. That’s a good point. The Coen’s love that kind of thing. I’m thinking specifically about Fargo and that scene with Margie and the Japanese guy at the bar. Totally out of context; in any other film that would have gotten left on the cutting room floor. Also, I think you could argue quite conclusively that the entire story of The Big Lebowski never gets anywhere; it’s just a series of dead ends and random happenings. The Dude and Ed are cousins in that sense, but Ed is self-aware. They’re sort of the new noir hero for an age of irony. Hmmm…

Has anyone else seen the movie?

no, unfortunately i have not had time recently to view the film. kirstin and i rented it one weekend and then ran out of time to watch and had to return it unviewed (a cardinal sin, in my book).

I’m going to go back to Plato’s allegory of the cave now because
I’ve been reading lots of Hannah Arendt for class and I realized that over half the notes I’m writing in the margins of my books are Coen Bros. film titles and scenes where I see Arendtian themes going on.

I just read an amazing essay called “Philosophy and Politics”, where Arendt talks about the theory of the cave in terms of justice and the relationship of the philosopher to the crowd. What makes something just? she asks with Plato. Is it the opinions of the masses or the truth that the singular philosopher brings to the masses? She talks about the philosopher as an invisible person who seems strange and funny to the crowd, who doesn’t fit in the world of appearances.

Does any of this strike you as similar to themes in “The Man Who Wasn’t There”? The film is definitely a story about justice. When does our hero actually become a wrong-doer and how does public opinion play into how we judge him? Now I see that his wonderment at the perpetual growth of hair does not make him crazy. It makes him a philosopher! Well, sort of.

Am I just willy-nilly connecting Arendt to this film because I just happen to be reading her right now? Nay. Ever since I saw the scene in “Barton Fink” where John Goodman is running down the flaming hall yelling “I’ll show you the life of the mind!”, I’ve longed to read Hannah Arendt’s “Life of the Mind” to see what’s going on there. Now I’m reading it and realizing that Joel Cohen’s Wittgenstein-paper-writing philosophy major mind is well represented in all these films, in some more than others. I see “The Man Who Wasn’t There” as a sequel of sorts to “Barton Fink”. Anyone else back me up on that ?

Probably not too many have read a lot of Ardent. Ask Nick Lantinga. He just finished his Ph.D. on her. Well, I’m glad someone is finding more behind these guys. I’ve always been worried for them. I read a fairly convincing article a few weeks ago in which the author said he enjoyed their stuff, but when you get right down to it, they just make movies about movies. Makes a lot of sense to me, but I’m quite hesitant to close off the dicussion there. Three cheers! Hip hip… you know the rest.
Oh, eveybody wish Bono a happy birthday today (May 10).

Okay—Dave, you’re asking for it bringing up Bono’s birthday.

Everyone—It’s Dave’s birthday today too!

Huzzah for Dave! And Bono! And Joel Zuidhof who also posts on this board! Happy Birthday! May 10! Exclamation point!

Of course I would have to agree (Happy Birthday, all!) that the Coen Bros. are just making movies about movies. What else is there for movie-makers to make movies about? 2001: A Space Oddessy questions film’s capacity for traversing time and space, Happiness responds to Woody Allen’s Hannah and Her Sisters, Disney’s Fantasia seeks to give birth to a music television network, Gosford Park asks questions about the violence of the film industry upon the secrecy of real life. Though this is my own list meant to make a point, I can’t think of a film that doesn’t take up its own nature as its content.