No Country For Old Men vs Three Burials Of Melquiades Estrada

You will hear a lot about the violence in No Country for Old Men. And I can vouch for that; there’s a lot of blood spilled in the movie, as there often is in films by the Coen brothers. What you might not hear much of is how powerful the violence is, and how it seems to represent something about the nature of people and of animals, and how blurry that line can be. In No Country for Old Men, Javier Bardem plays one of the most vile movie characters I’ve ever seen. He’s as much animal as person, but he’s got an odd calm about him, and in his own way, a logic he lives by. Most of the violence in No Country for Old Men can be attributed to Bardem’s Anton Chigurh, not that the other characters don’t do their part to keep up.

Josh Brolin stars as Llewelyn Moss, a welder in Texas in 1980. Llewelyn stumbles upon a horrific crime scene—he’s less horrified by the crime scene than he is by the idea of the “last man standing” still being out there somewhere—along with a satchel full of money. He sneaks the cash back home, knowing he’s going to be a wanted man, and hurries his wife (Kelly MacDonald) out of town. Llewelyn doesn’t have an immediate plan for the money; he knows that he’s got to lay low for a while before reaping any of its benefits. His dilemma reminded me some of A Simple Plan, where the found money was worth so much more trouble than good, but even in A Simple Plan, there were no obstacles like the ones facing Llewelyn. He hops from town to town, hiding out in tiny motels, trying to keep the money safe and out of view. But always, barely even a step behind, is Anton, whom no movie character in his right mind would ever think to cross. Anton kills again and again on his way to that money, leaving only a few survivors here and there (seriously, even dogs die in No Country for Old Men.)

Anton is one of the great modern movie villains. I think he belongs on the same list as characters like Norman Bates, Darth Vader and Hannibal Lecter, but while those villains were sanitized and explained away throughout too many sequels, Anton Chigurh has made the only statement he’ll ever make. The Coens don’t do sequels, and really, after No Country for Old Men, I’m not sure there’s much more to say about Anton anyway. He’s a complete cipher; we know nothing of his motivation, really, or where his loyalties lie (if he has any). He’s just evil, period, and I’m here to tell you: he’s terrifying. You’ve probably seen Anton’s haircut in the film’s trailer and thought he was maybe one of those wisecracking villains, maybe effete and cold. Maybe he’s funny, right? No. Anton Chigurh makes Dennis Hopper’s character in Blue Velvet look like…he makes him look kind of like me. And we all know you guys aren’t scared of me.

And while Llewelyn runs, hiding and re-hiding himself and that satchel of money, and Anton follows, killing whomever’s in his way, an investigation is progressing, kind of, back at that crime scene. Tommy Lee Jones does a tremendous job as Sheriff Ed Tom Bell, a man of integrity but limited resources. Like Marge Gunderson in Fargo, Ed Tom is an officer of the law who upholds the law with humor and honesty. It’s a great character, and Jones brings gravitas and regret that other actors might have overlooked. He doesn’t really believe, I don’t think, that this case will be solved. He’s looking at this case as a sign of what the world around him has become, and wondering maybe if he’s too sensitive for that kind of world. There’s a killer scene—one I consider to be the true climax of the film—between Ed Tom and his brother (Barry Corbin, in a pitch-perfect cameo) that lays out the meaning of the lives of these men, as well as that of the title. Good stuff.

The Coen brothers deserve much of the credit, as usual. Everything in No Country for Old Men is stunningly shot and framed. In other movies, the initial crime scene would have been set up different ways, so that close-ups, long shots, and edits could take place. Here, it appears as if the set was dressed once, and that every shot is of that same initial crime scene; whether from the top of a hill, or down in the valley amongst the bodies. Nothing feels like a prop or a stunt, yet everything feels part of a great movie. I love when that happens. When art is capable of looking like life, but still like art. This isn’t documentary, but it’s about as far from camp as you can get (this is not the Tommy Lee Jones from the cheerleader movie. This is Tommy Lee M.F. Jones, my friends, the one you think is awesome.)

Simply put, No Country for Old Men is one of the best movies I’ve ever seen. I think it’s the best work the Coen brothers have done (including Fargo). Actually, and I know I’m prone to exaggeration: I think it’s as good as anything done by Quentin Tarantino and Martin Scorsese in the past fifteen years. The movie it most reminds me of is perhaps Unforgiven, which I definitely recommend, but not in this situation. Frankly, I’ve been debating about No Country for Old Men for the past couple weeks, and I’m afraid adding a movie like Unforgiven into the mix is going to set me up for an argument I’m not capable of having (can’t I just say it’s better than Unforgiven and you guys believe me? Why not? It’s me!) Instead, I’ve found another bleak, violent, modern western, and what do you know, it stars Tommy Lee Jones too.

Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada tells the story of Pete Perkins (Tommy Lee Jones), a rancher who has become friends with one of his illegal employees, a man named Melquiades (Julio Cedillo). Melquiades is killed in an accident involving a racist border patrol officer (Barry Pepper). Pete is distraught by the loss of his friend, and perhaps by the injustice of the situation, and forces the officer to travel with him to bury Melquiades in his home country. As you might guess from the salt-of-the-earth cast and dire plot, Three Burials of Meliquiades Estrada is fairly serious business. It’s also darkly funny (to preserve the body, it’s filled with anti-freeze, and continues to rot anyway, and gets as much screentime as any of the living actors. It’s like Weekend at Bernie’s directed by the you-know-who brothers.) Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada is languid and sad and moves at the pace you’d expect of a movie about people being forced to travel with a dead body. And by that I mean it can be a bit slow. There’s a lot to think about though, and a handful of great performances to appreciate. Besides Jones and Pepper, Melissa Leo costars as a bored, lonely woman with ties to them both, and Dwight Yoakum plays the sheriff (Dwight Yoakum, Melissa Leo and Barry Pepper don’t make a lot of movies, but they always seem to show up exactly where you need them. Don’t you love actors like that?)

Three Burials of Meliquiades Estrada isn’t the movie No Country for Old Men is, but you’re likely to feel that same hopelessness, anger and desert heat emanating off the screen (it just seems to take, you know, much longer). In both cases, we have Mr. Tommy Lee Jones to thank. In No Country for Old Men, he’s the beating heart of reason at the film’s core. In Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada, his motivations are a little muddier (is he crazy? Going crazy? Just trying to give that impression?), but the director of that film sticks to the point, and keeps the story slow and quiet when it needs to be, so we can concentrate on the real and metaphoric journey the characters (including the rotting corpse), are making towards the grave. By the end of the movie, it should come as no shock that the director of Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada is none other than Tommy Lee Jones.

No Country for Old Men: A

Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada: B+