1301 The Man Who Wasn't There

[Finch]

The Coen brothers peer into the existential abyss of the atomic age in this coolly riveting, drolly profound noir thriller. In a performance of masterfully calibrated understatement, Billy Bob Thornton stars as a disaffected barber in 1940s California whose suspicion that his wife (Frances McDormand) is cheating on him leads him down a crooked path of blackmail and murder. Fusing the expressionistic black and white and hard-boiled poetry of classic noir with their own idiosyncratic feeling for sinister, surreal Americana, Joel and Ethan Coen craft an arresting vision of the cruelty of fate and the mystery of our place in the cosmos.

United States, United Kingdom
2001
116 minutes
Black & White
1.85:1
English
Spine #1301

DIRECTOR-APPROVED 4K UHD + BLU-RAY SPECIAL EDITION FEATURES

New 4K digital restoration, supervised and approved by director of photography Roger Deakins, with 5.0 surround DTS-HD Master Audio soundtrack
One 4K UHD disc of the film presented in Dolby Vision HDR and one Blu-ray with the film and special features
Audio commentary featuring filmmakers Joel and Ethan Coen and actor Billy Bob Thornton
New conversation between the Coens and author Megan Abbott
Archival interview with Deakins
Short making-of documentary and deleted scenes
English subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearing
PLUS: An essay by author Laura Lippman

New cover by Marc Aspinall

[jedgeco]

Just bought this one on standard Blu-ray, figuring there wasn't much chance of a 4K upgrade. At least it was cheap!

[Lowry_Sam]

So no color version?

[ryannichols7]

Just bought this one on standard Blu-ray, figuring there wasn't much chance of a 4K upgrade. At least it was cheap!

Deakins confirmed years ago on his podcast with Lee Kline that this was coming from Criterion, all I'm saying

[flyonthewall2983]

The commentary track sounds interesting to say the least

[Beloved Aunt]

C'mon, no Carter Burwell interview....! It's one of his best scores.

[Mr.DarjeelingLimited]

I’m not the biggest TMWWT fan but it’s among both Burwell and Deakins best works. Bring on A Serious Man (I think it’s their best film)

[therewillbeblus]

I've never been a big fan either, but watched it again today and came around to its best qualities. This is a deeply depressing movie wearing the clothes of something more entertaining than it aims to be, and I think Billy Bob Thornton nails the emptiness of man, which is both an anti-character and the tragedy of existence that comprises the film itself. His character is the film, which makes it inherently off-putting but also quietly alluring; an invitation to the audience to assess our own vacuities and longings

[LastMinit]

I should try this one again.
I retried A Serious Man recently but it was another no. I love the the Dybbuk opening, but after that I struggle. The whole Sy Ableman shtick is so clunky to me, he's not drawn like a real character, he's drawn like a pantomime bore. I don't get it.

[WrathOfAguirre]

I should try this one again.
I retried A Serious Man recently but it was another no. I love the the Dybbuk opening, but after that I struggle. The whole Sy Ableman shtick is so clunky to me, he's not drawn like a real character, he's drawn like a pantomime bore. I don't get it.

I should retry A Serious Man. I remember--in what may be the only time this has ever been the case for me--enjoying a particular trailer for it more than the film itself.

I've never actually seen TMWWT (no reason why, really), and as a general longtime fan of most Coen Bros' films, I'm looking forward to seeing it in what will surely be a great presentation.

[agnamaracs]

This is out now. Someone has it.

Did they leave it alone?

[therewillbeblus]

Well, it only took a quarter-century and a handful of watches for me to go from thinking this amongst the worst of the Coens to one of their best. What I didn't understand is that it's deceptively just a noir with existential comedy.. this is a very funny but desperate, clawing meditation on our relationship with the 'unknowns' of life, which is basically everything. Tony Shalhoub's theory about the longer you engage with something, the less you know, is both hysterical and deeply unsettling. I found myself laughing at a bunch of small bits hidden amongst the louder gags, and rattled by the pervasive loneliness and apathy born from not having the words to express what we feel, or the mental capacity to know what we crave, to feel belongingness in this world and with the people in it. Thornton is brilliant casting - a larger-than-life personality whittled down to the bare essentials, unable to access all the actorly gifts he possesses, and he nails it with subtler skills. And every shot looks perfect - it's ridiculous to call anything "Deakins' best work" but this is sure in the running. Anyways, this feels like the key precursor to Inside Llewyn Davis and that's as high a compliment as I could offer

[FrauBlucher]

I saw this once, when it came out. I was so so about it. I loved the look but felt a little cold and confused by the narrative. Therewillbeblus, after your write up I have a new interest on seeing again. This is exactly why I love this forum

[olmo]

This is out now. Someone has it.

Did they leave it alone?

No, they excised Roy Neary getting on the mothership in the jailhouse courtyard sequence.

[Mr Sausage]

Well, it only took a quarter-century and a handful of watches for me to go from thinking this amongst the worst of the Coens to one of their best. What I didn't understand is that it's deceptively just a noir with existential comedy.. this is a very funny but desperate, clawing meditation on our relationship with the 'unknowns' of life, which is basically everything. Tony Shalhoub's theory about the longer you engage with something, the less you know, is both hysterical and deeply unsettling. I found myself laughing at a bunch of small bits hidden amongst the louder gags, and rattled by the pervasive loneliness and apathy born from not having the words to express what we feel, or the mental capacity to know what we crave, to feel belongingness in this world and with the people in it. Thornton is brilliant casting - a larger-than-life personality whittled down to the bare essentials, unable to access all the actorly gifts he possesses, and he nails it with subtler skills. And every shot looks perfect - it's ridiculous to call anything "Deakins' best work" but this is sure in the running. Anyways, this feels like the key precursor to Inside Llewyn Davis and that's as high a compliment as I could offer

The Coens have always been the most wonderful examiners of inarticulacy in all its forms, but I think this is the first time I've seen them apply inarticulacy to the fabric of the film itself. The whole thing is chock full of people who can't express themselves: they either gabble away so endlessly that their talk ceases to carry significance (and indeed the film usually pots out the prattle), or like the lawyer try to concoct elaborate theories of life that they can't even remember the basic details of and are robbed (twice!) of an audience to perform them for, leaving the theories stillborn; or like Birdy the communication is merely mechanical, unconnected to any inner life, and otherwise people aren't listening; to a fortune teller whose words are so bullshit the film skips them; or the music teacher, who struggles through three different languages (English, French, music) to impress something of art on a man constitutionally incapable of understanding; to Ed himself, who's too baffled to even know what he feels let alone say it (and his final statement will end up in a goofy men's magazine no one will take seriously, and a lot of the words anyway were just padding to make a few extra nickles the man doesn't need). Even Doris' final act is a statement that just confuses everyone.

Because no one is able to communicate anything to each other, the truth of matters goes unnoticed, and the characters who do know something or other just accept that seems is going have to equal be in such a world. No one's listening, and even if they were, you couldn't explain it, so however things strike people is how they're going to remain. So it's a world where there's this tangled mystery that no one has properly understood, and never will, except for one man at the centre, and he's a silent, emotionally constipated man who's only able to grasp most of it after the fact. Nothing about the tangle of facts, schemes, and relationships speaks for itself, it's all a mess of misleading signs that no spokesperson or institution is able to organize properly. Just look at the knife: for the police it proves guilt because it's a small, woman's weapon, and when Ed tries to explain it was Big Dave's, he's cut off. The police have already decided what it means. But even Ed's explanation in that moment would be false, because he'd probably relate Big Dave got it during the Pacific campaign, which we later learn is false. Was it even Big Dave's? The truth of the knife is ultimately never spoken.

Murders in crime stories imply order (motives, connection, cause and effect), and the murders here indeed reveal quite a twisted but comprehensible piece of organization amongst these varied characters. But the endless inarticulacy of the world of the movie leaves that organization without adequate expression, without any way for the meaning behind everything to be communicated to anyone else, so the whole movie adds up to one great cosmic joke on us, the meaning-making animals, who're hobbled exactly where we assume our ascendancy, in our language. The very fabric of the movie amounts to a perfectly comprehensible world that no one will understand properly while thinking they also understand it completely.

Maybe Ed Crane's real emptiness is that he's the only person who feels he just doesn't understand, like the hair that keeps growing to be cut off to keep growing, and even grows after we're dead. Meaningless repetition that somehow organizes our whole lives (his more than most). He's not a paranoiac like Ann Nirdlinger, looking endlessly for larger and larger connections; he's in the opposite position, where nothing seems to connect with anything.

Spoiler

It's implied that Doris killed herself because she was pregnant, but I suspect she died for the same reason Ed was indifferent to his execution. Ed's anti-paranoia meant he had no reason to care where he ended up. Doris killed herself just before her lawyer could concoct an elaborate, quasi-scientific, quasi-mystical account of the universe that would affirm something true (she's innocent) by spinning a tale of bullshit meant to confuse and bewilder. His ploy to get an innocent verdict renders the truth of her innocence trivial, even meaningless. I suspect at that point she'd come to the same point of anti-paranoia as Ed, where everything was meaningless because unconnected and equivalent--the white noise of babble. Her last words in the film, uttered during a dream or even metaphysical moment, are to tell Ed to shut up.

[therewillbeblus]

Spoiler

Great thoughts - it's also worth noting that Doris tells Ed to shut up during the one moment he attempts to go 'deeper', essentially asking her how she's doing after she projects anger onto the salesman. She says something like, "I didn't say anything" to shut him down - she didn't invite his connection - and cuts herself off from that possibility by telling him to "shut up" (itself bitterly funny, considering Ed isn't exactly a 'talker'). Perhaps the only person Doris felt able to connect with in this world was Dave, now deceased, and her suicide is as simple as that.. something sensical in an otherwise nonsensical world. I love the moment where she quietly laughs at the reveal that he lied about his service record, demonstrating unconditional love, remembering him fondly despite of, perhaps because of his imperfections.

Another detail I love is how Ed shaves Doris' legs in a non-reciprocal dynamic, only for his executioner to shave his legs at the end of his life. How tragic, to be tended to with gentle care only in death, by a stranger. A perfect summation of Ed's life.

[Mr Sausage]

I should say that your enthusiastic post above finally got me to see this. I'd written it off as another unsatisfying Coens effort from their early 2000s slump, a movie I'd get around to someday if I were feeling completest, but would never consider a priority. So thanks for the push--this was a droll, odd, beautiful looking noir pastiche with an emotionally effecting philosophical outlook. You can see I responded heavily to its endless communication breakdowns--something that made the movie feel very contemporary. I suspect its failure relative to other Coen movies is that it's a bit viewer repelling: it's slow and stiff, the characters are flattened (deliberately and movingly, I'd argue), the plot doesn't add up to much in the end (again, deliberately and movingly), and it isn't grounded in a traditionally compelling star performance. It witholds the easier pleasures you find in most other Coen movies. But it's bitter and funny and has a particular intensity I don't get from other Coens, or at least not so pointedly. Everything comes together here just so everything can fall apart. And the thing is very funny. In the car scene with Scarlett Johanssen, Thornton declares I think 'Woah nelly!' at a certain compromising point and, I don't know, it really cracked me up, just the delivery, the quaintness of the line, how inappropriately decorous the words are for the moment. Hysterical.

As to your final paragraph: grooming is an intimate activity, but it never quite functions that way in the movie. As a business, it's either distasteful or drowned in the false intimacy of blather, or it's one-sided and servile, done via a glinting blade and in service of something unhappy or destructive. And yet there is something almost comforting in those last, careful strokes of the razor, isn't there? I don't know where I'm going with this, I just share your fascination with how this movie treats grooming.

[therewillbeblus]

As to your final paragraph: grooming is an intimate activity, but it never quite functions that way in the movie. As a business, it's either distasteful or drowned in the false intimacy of blather, or it's one-sided and servile, done via a glinting blade and in service of something unhappy or destructive. And yet there is something almost comforting in those last, careful strokes of the razor, isn't there? I don't know where I'm going with this, I just share your fascination with how this movie treats grooming.

You're right about intimacy. Doris has to force the idea of intimacy via grooming upon Ed by asking him to shave her legs, just as that intimacy is forced upon Ed strapped to a chair. Intimacy can't exist outside of forced measures in this world; not really. There is a moment when Ed confesses in front of Doris, and she looks at him in a way that's full of such complex emotion. It's heartbreaking, but it feels like an intimate moment they're either sharing or that he's forcing her to have, while he remains absent. Still, Ed is only pushed to the test due to forced circumstances, and there are plenty of other times where intimacy is forced and doesn't work. Just take Birdy: Ed tries to engage intimately with her with an awkward forced conversation, then forcing a fast-tracked career on her, and then she tries to force herself on him and he can't handle it. None of that is intimate in practice, just in theory. And people are so detached from one another's realities that they need to force everything, just like the salesman only more subtle.

Perhaps the act of grooming becomes intimate to Ed in those final moments. After years of being the groomer, Ed is finally being groomed. I think there's probably something about that that's intended to be potent, but the Coens admirably leave this film with less handholding regarding its intended takeaways than others (another reason why I think many dislike it - including me for so long). We've witnessed so many close-up shots of Ed cutting hair, including shaving his wife's legs, and then there's a close-up of someone shaving his. Is this an ironic and kinda mean but also life-affirming joke, for it to happen now? On the one hand, his fate.. but on the other, he seems to have reached a point of peace, a higher understanding about life that he can't explain but feels satisfied with. It's also preceding the very thing he wondered about earlier in the film, about hair growing after.. you know. So maybe it's intimate because of the dual experience of either anticipating answers to life's questions or finally being alleviated of the unknowns, or inarticulacy, that plague us. Either way, he wins - and loses, but he's over that now.

I'm just riffing too, but this movie also made me think and feel a lot and it's fun to try to parse out why

[Lowry_Sam]

I loved both The Big Lebowski & The Man Who Wasn't There and was disappointed by O Brother, Where Art Thou? upon their release. So I was a bit baffled by how out of sync I was with the prevailing sentiment at the time that dismissed the first 2 and praised the latter (I was often the lone person arguing that case among friends at the time). I've been happy to see Lebowski develop a cult following and its appreciation reassessed, maybe a quieter, more subtle film like TMWWT takes longer to be recognized for its merits, but I'm glad to see it happen. Since I've rated those 2 on IMDB, their overall scores have increased & OBWAT's has decreased, so I feel vindicated even if whatever arguments were made at the time have long passed.