'O Brother, Where Art Thou'
proves
unimpressive
 By
Jeremy Rea
Staff Writer
It’s a fine line between an artsy, movie-house,
avant-garde film and pretentious self-satisfying crap.
The Coen brothers have yet to make a film that
wasn’t entirely pretentious and self-satisfying, but they also
have yet to make a film that wasn’t thoroughly entertaining and
well-executed.
With a string of fantastic movies now behind them,
if they made a bad film, it’s doubtful people would receive it
as such. Perhaps that is the case with their most recent work, "O
Brother, Where Art Thou?", a sporadically entertaining movie winkingly
based upon "The Odyssey" by Homer, and titled from Preston
Sturges’ "Sullivan’s Travels."
Mostly, these homages allow them to smirk and pat
one another on the back for making clever tie-ins, such as naming the
title character Ulysses, and laughing with the other film dorks for
getting the title reference (No, I didn’t. I looked it up.).
Set in the 1920s against a Southern backdrop that
could be lifted from any Faulkner novel, the aforementioned Ulysses
(George Clooney, in a one-trick role) leads his two partners Pete (a
googly-eyed and vague-accent-using John Tuturro) and Delmar (Tim Blake
Nelson) through numerous adventures.
Along the way, they entwine themselves with a number
of characters; several of who are created apparently so they can all
come together at the film’s finale. The three were bound together
as part of a chain gang until Clooney convinces the other two he knows
the location of buried treasure.
But they must get to it in the next four days,
before the valley is flooded as part of a hydroelectric plant, or something.
As is typical of the Coen brothers, however, the plot itself is eschewed
in favor of producing a visually stunning piece filled with memorable
players all speaking a completely isolated dialect.
Unfortunately, when your characters are entirely
one-dimensional and the said dialect is irritating to listen to, a plot
would be a good thing to fall back on.
Clooney, though he tries hard with his impish smile,
is stuck spouting fancy words in monologues that couldn’t possibly
sound more scripted. The joke is that he’s a southern convict,
but he uses big words. It isn’t funny for very long.
He’s also vain, as we discover when he talks
about his hair during the course of the entire film. That isn’t
funny for very long either.
The other characters don’t fare much better.
Tuturro is reduced to playing an idiot without any valuable traits that
make idiots funny.
Nelson is the film’s only comic relief, and
it shows as the plot turns to him over and over to spout some one-liner
about what a miseducated moron he is. He’s like some Mortimer Snerd
who keeps babbling even without the help of Edgar Bergen.
Several other "zany" characters float
in and out as parts of numerous subplots, mostly all to help keep up
the Odyssey gag. John Goodman is as entertaining as possible playing
the Cyclops character, and there’s also some sirens and a scene
that involves Ulysses disguising himself as an old man. These might
all be cool as additions to a solid movie, but they are the movie, and
it just doesn’t work.
That isn’t to say the film isn’t good,
because it is modestly entertaining. Each shot reeks of meticulous planning,
and the mellifluous (if annoying) dialogue is completely original.
However, its pieces alone are worth more than the
whole, and the whole experience leaves you feeling largely unfulfilled.
Whenever something entertaining isn’t happening on-screen, it feels
as though the story isn’t going anywhere, and when it’s all
over, it turns out it wasn’t.
The Coens have long fancied throwing in mounds
of symbolism only to later deny that it has any meaning; it appears
as though, here, that is actually the case. There’s also the questionable
treatment of the film’s only black character, whom is largely reduced
to a plot device to move everything along to the climax. And one of
the musical numbers ("O Brother" has many) involving a performing
KKK clan is a bit confusing at best.
There are surely people out there who’ll tell
you this film is the Second Coming, and they’ll sneer at you when
you say it was lazy tripe, especially coming from guys who make pretty
brilliant movies ("Barton Fink," "Fargo," "The
Big Lebowski").
Hit them in the face, because chances are they’re
small and cowardly; the Coen brothers may well think the fact that their
product is overblown yet intellectually unstable is utterly hilarious,
if they’re laughing at anyone, it’s Godard-worshipping people
like that.
If part of the joke is that "O Brother"
is too pretentious for its own good, I suppose that’s fine and
clever, but movies are damn expensive, and you’d be better served
just renting.
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