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No time for over-rated thrillers

Monday, 28th January 2008

Here we go again: another unsatisfactory night at the cinema. Maybe I should consider launching a Society of Film-goers Who Think Film Critics Are Useless. Having been stung so many times before ("Atonement", "The English Patient", etc, etc) I went in telling myself that "No Country For Old Men" probably wouldn't be the masterpiece many of the reviewers claim it to be, but that I should give it a chance. Well I did, and it still didn't grip me. Yes, there are individual scenes that are handled with virtuoso skill, and the acting (especially from the psychotic Javier Bardem) is first-class. But, not for the first time with the Coens, I felt I was in the hand of a couple of clever and whimsical film students, and that just ain't enough. (The only movies of theirs that I've enjoyed unconditionally is "Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?", with "Fargo" not too far behind.)

Part of the problem is that the characterisation is so flimsy. How much do we learn about Josh Brolin, his wife or even Tommy Lee Jones? It doesn't help that ultra-violence has become such a cliche. Some reviewers have praised the film's element of suspense, yet I always find myself wondering if they miss the distinction between suspense and the fear of seeing something horrible inflicted on a human body. There really is a difference, I think.

When I got home I skimmed through Rotten Tomatoes to see what the big reviewers had to say. As far as I could tell, only Sukhdev Sandhu and the man from the Hollywood Reporter expressed serious reservations. Sandhu nailed it:

On he goes: bang! Another victim dead. The brutality is initially jolting, but, stripped of all but the lightest smear of motivation, it soon begins to pall. At each of the three screenings of the film I've attended, audiences have sniggered at the killings: perhaps out of nerves, but also, especially when they are performed by Bardem's comic hulk, they don't have any emotional resonance. They make one pine for the gleeful bloodlust of a Tarantino or Eli Roth: both those directors are more honest about wanting to give their audiences kicks.

A couple more thoughts... As we sat through the trailers - a US president gunned down in public, the demon barber swimming through gore, and various other shoot 'em up extravaganzas - I couldn't help wondering why an audience of mainly fortysomethings should be expected to revel in so much mayhem. The cinema I frequent is more art-house than multiplex; even so, there's still the assumption that we're exciteable teens. Why? Oh, and does anyone know when the British film industry will be making a comeback?