Doomtomylo
a film so unique, intoxicating and bizarre that it not only demands another viewing, but is also forgivable as a satirical comedy where the jokes eventually take the back seat.
maxtbuettner
Fargo is about how far Jerry Lundegaard (William H. Macy) will go to get some money and how out of control the situation becomes. The film follows pregnant chief police Marge Gunderson (Frances McDormand) as she tries to piece it all together. Frances McDormand gives a wonderful, Oscar winning performance as the multi-layered police chief. On the outside she has a comical personality, but she is also deeply caring. The movie is rounded together with fantastic performances from Steve Buscemi, Peter Stormare, and William H. Macy.
The movie is beautifully shot by Roger Deakins, earning him his second Oscar nomination. The greatest aspect of the film is how the Coen brother's combated the barren landscape with dark comedy. The mixture of irony, awkward moments, and laughing at inappropriate times really make this film enjoyable to watch and a great film over all.
tylerduswalt
Fargo is a product of the Coen brothers at their best. It claims to be a true story, although it is very loosely based on an actual crime, and the claim is more of a way for the Coen brothers to present their film with a tongue-in-cheek forewarning that the absurdity you are about to witness is entirely factual. The film's tagline is "a homespun murder story," yet the film has much more merit and value to it than this humble statement suggests. Comprised of a network of simpletons way in over their heads in what was supposed to be a relatively victimless crime, Fargo's claim to be unsophisticated speaks more to the incompetence of those involved in the staged kidnapping of Jean Lundegaard than the film itself. The movie seamlessly blends excessive violence, dark humor, apathy, satire, sadism, copious snow, Minnesota accents, and more without misstepping. This is a testament to the film's incredibly high quality: incorporating these elements and striking a balance in them is certainly a difficult task. Joel and Ethan Coen took extraordinary risks to translate their vision to screen, and their bold decisions certainly paid off.
Jerry Lundegaard, a car salesman with an increasingly apparent lack of empathy, begins as our protagonist. He's played by William H. Macy, who perfectly portrays an afraid man who constantly tries to worm his way out of situations created by an ill-thought out plan. Jerry only wants the "ransom" money without any trouble, but as murders begin popping all over the map up by the hands of Carl Showalter (Steve Buscemi) and Gaear Grimsrud (Peter Stormare), starting due to Carl's lack of tags on the tan Sierra, there is a shift in who steps into the role of protagonist: Marge Gunderson, a chief officer late in her pregnancy played by Frances McDormand. What makes McDormand's character so enticing, besides her oscar-winning performance, is how she's against people and motives she doesn't understand. After the shocking wood-chipper scene, she handcuffs Gaear and begs the question: how can a man give up the rest of his life and take away so many others' lives for a bit of money? Materialism is a common theme here, as it is what triggers this disastrous series of events. We see Jerry lie both in and out of the workplace, and, whether his words are directed to a customer or his loved ones, they always sound like a sales pitch with a hint of desperation. As the scheme becomes more convoluted and things become traceable to him, he finds it harder to bide his time.
A part of what makes this movie so original is how it uses humor to bring light to a very dark ordeal. Minnesota accents aside, the Coen brothers create hilarious exchanges between simple folk so that there's a "yer dern tootin'" or an "aw heck" for every killing at the hands of Stormare's expressionless mute or Buscemi's inept loudmouth. You are allowed to laugh at the misfortune because the film is essentially as unsympathetic as its characters. It's hard to refrain from finding someone like Carl and his spewing frustration hilarious, despite his and Gaear's awful deeds. The dialogue is perfectly tailored to the setting and to each person, and you'll find that remarks are often repeated in scenes, getting only funnier each time ("we're not a bank, Jerry;" "he's kinda funny lookin'"). Characters discuss the best buffets around, pancakes, homicide, loneliness, and faxes, all complemented by a gorgeous soundtrack and backdrop filled with a plethora of snow and tire tracks. No character is without value to the film (even Mike Yanagita, who helps Margie realize Jerry may be lying to her); Norm Gunderson is a shining example of the 3-cent stamp whose purpose is to keep the 29-cent stamp balanced, happy, and thriving. Fargo is in master-class territory, a film begging for its viewers to find themselves past that Paul Bunyan statue once again to revisit its snowy, violent, simple offerings, and I couldn't recommend it more to any appreciative moviegoer.
