Director: Joel Coen
Cast: Frances McDormand, William H. Macy, Steve Buscemi, Peter Stormare
Have I Seen it Before: Oof. Buckle up on this one.
I first saw the movie in perhaps the worst way possible, on TNT airings in the late 90s. And Goddamn it if the film still doesn’t work when every flash of violence is truncated and every use of the word “fuck” is replaced with the wonderful euphemism “frooz.”
When the customer (Gary Houston) who is berating Jerry Lundegaard (Macy) calls him a “froozing liar,” that is as memorable a moment as I’m likely to encounter in film.
Although the cutaway to Showalter (Buscemi) and Grimsrud (Stormare) with the hookers always felt strange when all we were showed was them watching The Tonight Show.
But isn’t like I’m still watching a version of the film which is cut down to allow the maximum number of basketball games to be broadcast on a given day. The movie became all the better on DVD and Blu Ray in the following years, but here’s the weird thing:
Before this last weekend, I honestly can’t remember if I’ve ever seen it in the theater. I’m thinking there might have been a 20th anniversary screening five years ago at the Circle Cinema, but I can’t be completely sure. During a time where there were plenty of movie screenings, they do all tend to blend together.
Which brings us to this weekend. It’s been a year since I’ve been inside a theater, and with two full doses of Moderna running through my veins, it was time to come back. Wide releases are still in drips and drabs, and I just didn’t want my first trip back to be for Godzilla vs Kong (2021) or, God forbid, Mortal Kombat (2021), so I went ahead and waited until a verifiably great movie.
Oh, to be back at a theater. The bright light of an unseasonably hot spring day, giving way to the cool darkness of the inside, only release me back into the daylight. The posters and massive displays for upcoming releases...
And the popcorn. Oh, it was a moment of revelation when I realized just how different movie theater popcorn is from the microwavable stuff I’ve been using to fool myself in the time of COVID. I’d go on about the experience, but I’m nearly 400 words into this review, and I haven’t really talked about the film itself. I’ll just say thank you, Fargo. It’s good to be back.
Did I Like It: Aside from the sundry ways I’ve taken in the film, the thing I’m always struck by when watching it is a big question:
Who is the protagonist of the movie? Marge Gunderson (McDormand) or Lundegaard? Gunderson is the clear hero of the movie; by the time she shows up the plot is driven forward exclusively by her. On the other hand, she doesn’t show up in the film until roughly halfway through the runtime. To not introduce the protagonist until halfway through the film flies in the face of conventional screenwriting wisdom. It shouldn’t work like this, but somehow it does. The only other film I can think of that has such a schizophrenic relationship to its protagonist and doesn’t come across as hopefully amateurish is Psycho (1960).
Lundegaard, on the other hand is there from the first frame. He’s the one who’s got a desire, a plan, and is a bit of a stranger in a strange land. Thus, his—just as much as Marge’s—story is the hero’s story, even if it all collapses in on itself in well-deserved tragedy and comeuppance.
An argument can be made for either. Depending on when I see the movie, I go either way. It makes it a pretty fresh experience every time, or far fresher than a 25-year-old movie has any right to be.
The next big question central to understanding the film is that of the sad story of Mike Yanagita (Steve Park). I’ve talked to any number of people, and seen a number of written pieces on the film that deem it as nearly flawless, but that Marge’s meeting with Yanagita at the Radisson is a weird non sequitur that serves no purpose.
Wrong.
Marge would have never taken a second look at Lundegaard’s increasingly thorny nest of lies, if she hadn’t been confronted with the complete falsehood that was Yanagita. The story doesn’t happen without it. Jerry just might have gotten away with it, even though the plan would have still been a disaster the moment that cop ate it in Brainerd. Without Mike Yanagita, the whole story falls apart. Mike Yanagita is load bearing, and there isn’t a wasted moment in this entire movie.