A new Coen brothers film is usually a joyous occasion. What crazy characters have they concocted this time, who is in the new film, what's it about? Regardless of the questions and the expectations rarely do they give you what's expected. Coming after the rather disappointing and lackluster one-two punch of Intolerable Cruelty and The Ladykillers I wondered if perhaps they were losing their magic. Roughly five minutes into No Country For Old Men all my faith was restored. For 122 bleak moments a desolate world criminals and would be assassins cross our paths and at least someone in American cinema was stating that a parred down film language was not just enthralling, but monumental in scope.

The plot unravels in its own small lethargic way. Llewelyn Moss (Josh Brolin) stumbles across the aftermath of what appears to be a drug deal gone bad. Tracking the ultima hombre (last man standing) he finds a case with $2 million in it. We never find out who shot who in the beginning, or why, what happened to the truck full of heroin and what not. This is a film that doesn't spell everything out for us. It denies us a sense of closure and leaves out what seem like vital details for our understanding of the narrative. The mission here is ambiguity. The Coen's are not offering a cleverly wrapped up package. Rather than being given the vitals, we are left wondering motivations and what happens.

In Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem) the Coen's have concocted a character on par with Frank Booth as the most evil man in film. His killer is methodical, determined, and seemingly invincible. A remorseless killer who slays for little reason. We don't even know how he's connected in the first place, but her serves as the extreme poll of evil. Bardem is absolutely chilling in his role and any scene he's in has a capacity to venture into pure unspeakable violence. His oxygen tank is similar to a butchers tool for killing livestock, and he seems to kill people with the same compassion. 

The ending of the film has gotten some people a little flustered. Like everything else in the film we aren't given all the information, and some people have found a lack of closure. This seems almost perfect. Contrary to nearly every new film the Coen's have opted to have no music in their picture, and the only time we hear any music is when a band of mariachis are playing on the streets of Mexico. This is the first Coen film I've seen on the big screen and I am glad I did. The vast desert landscapes overload the screen and everything has an empty shell to it. This is something of a modern American masterpiece and more than enough justification for the Coen brothers being in my top 20.