No Endings For Old Men

Last weekend I had the good fortune to break-away from my burgeoning family responsibilities and check out the new Coen Brothers movie, No Country For Old Men.

I have been a fan of the Coen Brothers for years and have consistently stood in line for everything they do. Hell, I even saw The Ladykillers at the theatre and fully expected a personal letter for that one. When I saw that the Coen Brothers were getting involved in a modern-western-border-wars picture and it had a psycho hitman carrying a captive bolt pistol (yes, I had to look this up) - I actually pre-scheduled some time to check out the movie before the baby was born.

Ahem.

Now I was already a bit cautious as this movie had both really good reviews from the usually Hollywood shills and was only showing in the local 'art' theatre - usually a kiss of death for any movie that I am coming at from an 'thinking-action-genre' perspective. However, I was undaunted, as for the aforementioned cattlegun (i.e. captive bolt pistol, captive bolt stunner, hereafter referred to as a CBP) and a few trailer scenes of a weapon that looked very suspiciously like a silenced automatic shotgun.

The movie started off great - the characters were well developed and the eerie mood of the west Texas frontier meshed great with the faceless menace of the Mexican drug runners. The dialogue was crisp and witty and dotted with the regionalisms and sayings that are such a big part of western Texas culture.

I was rocking with the protagonist and held breathless at the unstoppable pursuit of the killer. There were threats of revenge - the protagonist referring to his Vietnam-trained combat skills and prowess with weaponry.

They moved closer to each other . . .

And then it just ended.

I can't remember the exact length of the film, but if it was two hours - the last ten minutes killed everything I had loved so much in the majority of the film.

I read a review after the fact with the Coen Brothers that had mentioned that a lot of folks would probably be pissed at the way the movie netted out. They mentioned a few significant events off-screen (read: you are left wondering what the hell happened) and that it was a movie made the way they wanted - rather than how the audience would probably like it.

Um, yeah.

The movie ended to a cacophony of groans from myself and fellow movie goers. One old man a few rows over even threatened that he would be staying in his seat until "he got an ending." I am sure that is how the book ended up, but come on . . .

My cousin summed it up best as we languidly exited the theatre - they must have just run out of money.

I sure hope that's the case. And I for one would have thrown in an extra theatre admission to see a right-proper ending to what was otherwise a great movie.

So Coen Brothers - WTF happened?

And by the way, you can't slap a silencer on a shotgun without having it blow-up in your face.