Nothing Happens for a Reason
Despite the fact that No Country for Old Men is not an original story by the Coen Brothers and added to this the fact that it is substantially more faithful to the original source than usual in Hollywood, Cormac McCarthy’s universe fits quite snugly into the remarkably coherent philosophy of their films. If any and every Coen Brothers film can be boiled down to one single essential thematic fact, it is that we live in a completely random universe where no one—not even the rich and powerful—really exert any control over their destinies. Bad things happen to bad people. Bad things happen to seemingly decent people. Good things happen to people we don’t know enough to make judgments about. The bad guy gets away, but at what cost and for how long? Lots of things happen in this film that could be described—as the kids like to say—as absolutely cray-cray, but despite the very best laid plans of those who are most invested, the outcome remains always unpredictable.
The Coens and Consumerism
Not quite as pervasive and all-consuming as philosophy of nihilist fatalism expressed throughout the work of Joel and Ethan Cohen—but nearly—is the critique of capitalist consumerism. The Coen don’t attack capitalism with the bludgeoning hammer of Marxian theory, but instead subtly chip away at its destructive power with prickly pick of Thorstein Veblen’s economic theories. This time around the Coens place their focus—subtle as it may be—on the paradox of all that violence exploding as a result of chasing after an obscene amount of money and the almost total lack of interest on the part of law enforcement in investigating it. The legal system in America is a mechanism of protecting business interests above human life—witness how much energy has been put into making bank robberies almost non-existent—but when the business interests that needs protection is foreign and the resulting carnage leaving a blood trail are Americans of no value, the nexus between consumer capitalism and law enforcement prefers to do only as little as is possibly required. And then complain about bad things have gotten in their work.
It Really Is Just a Coin
Another subtle jab at consumerism and the law is manifested in the fact that the single most dramatic tense sequence in the film is not related to the fortune so much blood is being spilled over, but the sheer gall of a small business owner in the service industry attempting to make a human connection with a customer. Anton Chigurh hardly shows a flicker of emotion over the course of his violent reign of terror, but seems almost ready to launch into a psychopathic rage in an instant when a gas station attendant tries to engage in small talk. The psychotic unpredictability of this particular random act of fate in the Coen universe works its way up from zero to eleven with blazing speed and before you know it a completely innocent man’s life seems to hang in the balance of whether a coin flip has produced the pressing on the front or the back. When Anton tells the attendant not to put it in his pocket because then it becomes just a coin, he may or may not be expressing a profound philosophical truth. With him, it’s hard to tell; he must just be acting weird for reasons for unknown. Regardless, the advice ultimately is quite profound: it was not the coin itself which proved lucky for the old man, but rather the fact that even a malevolent force of lunacy like Anton abides by certain codes of conduct. Replace the coin with the totem of faith of your choice and the cosmic profundity of this scene becomes much clearer. Take all those totems and mix them together and any single one of them becomes just a coin.
