Under the Rock
Joel and Ethan Coen have enjoyed much attention of
late, following their critically acclaimed Fargo
(1996) and The Big Lebowski (1998), as well as their
new film, O Brother, Where Art Thou?, a hit at
Cannes and about to be released in the States. But
before all of that came the Coens' first feature,
1984's Blood Simple. Promoted as being "digitally
enhanced and tastefully restored," this version of the
film is merely a remixed and restored version of the
original. No added scenes or pyrotechnics are needed,
however, for the movie to stand on its own sixteen
years later. Though shot on a shoestring budget by
first-time feature filmmakers, the movie encapsulates
all that has come to typify the Coen brothers' style:
engaging narrative, inventive direction, and the
juxtaposition of grim violence with moments of
sublime, sometimes surreal, human behavior.
The bizarre behavior depicted in this cinematic debut
is complemented by the film's manipulation of setting.
Like Fargo's Minnesota or The Big Lebowski's
Southern California, Blood Simple's Central Texas is
a crucial element in the characterization and plot.
Beyond their characters' remarkable accents, the Coen
brothers have a knack for establishing a film's mood
through their choice of location. Blood Simple
begins with a voiceover by M. Emmet Walsh speculating
on the benefits of Russian communism before finally
admitting, "What I know about is Texas. And down here,
you're on your own." The film's repeated images of the
abandoned oil pumps and desolate fields surrounding
Austin are a fitting backdrop to this moody tale of a
cheating wife and her jealous, murderous husband.
This grim story stars perennial Coen brothers' heroine
(and Ethan's wife after this film) Frances McDormand
as Abby, the sweet, talkative southern girl who
cuckolds her malevolent hubby Marty (Dan Hedaya). At
the heart of the film lies Marty's diabolical
eagerness for revenge against the wife who left him
and the man she left him for. The film's brooding pace
quickens after Marty hires a private detective named
Visser (Walsh) to kill both Abby and her lover Ray
(played by Tom Wopat look-alike John Getz). The
remainder of the film displays storytelling that is
vintage Coen brothers: a two-timing wife avoids the
wrath of a two-timing hit man who she believes to be
her vengeful husband. The husband, in turn, actually
spends the majority of the film dying from wounds
inflicted by a series of murderous culprits, none of
whom know about the other. Simple indeed.
In addition to this tangled narrative, Blood Simple
is also remarkable for its visual originality. Fans of
the Evil Dead series will particularly enjoy the
film's creative camera work. Written while Joel Coen
was working on Sam Raimi's The Evil Dead (1982),
Blood Simple incorporates many of the athletic,
erratic camera techniques that make all three of
Raimi's Evil Dead films so stunning. In addition,
Blood Simple employs stylish dissolves and scene
changes that give the work a flare uncommon to most
low-budget features. In one scene, Visser shoots
through a wall into a darkened room, the bullet holes
creating visually arresting bursts of light. Such
striking artistry makes the film more than just a
typical shoot-em-up.
The eclectic cast of characters lends the film further
substance and originality. The supporting backbone of
any Coen brother story resides in the attractive
quirkiness of its players. John Turturo as the
tortured intellectual Barton Fink (Barton Fink 1991)
and Nicholas Cage as the dim-witted kidnapper H.I.
McDonough (Raising Arizona 1987) are just two
examples of Coen characters (and actors) whose
engaging personalities and perpetual sorrows appeal to
and repulse audiences at the same time. Blood Simple
offers up its own menagerie of skewed individuals. For
example, it's almost hard to keep up with Marty's many
moods, which run from alternately brooding to violent
to pathetic, as he faces the loss of his wife to
another man. At one point, he breaks in to Ray's house
in an effort to kidnap Abby, but his sadistic intent
is undercut by a swift kick in the groin by Abby.
Marty's many faces make him unpredictable and,
ultimately, interesting to watch. The audience can't
know if he will murder his wife in the next instant or
get himself killed in the attempt.
As Abby, McDormand is alternately coy and oblivious, a
seemingly carefree soul with a strong instinct for
self-preservation. Abby changes from
damsel-in-distress to an empowered, gun-toting woman
during the film, all the while exuding a kind of
bewildered charm that allows the audience to feel both
pity and admiration for her. Walsh, however, steals
every scene he's in. Whether hunched behind the wheel
of his sinister, powder-blue Volkswagen bug or chasing
flies from his sweat-soaked forehead, Walsh's Visser
is at once jovial and creepy, a cold-blooded killer
who is infinitely likeable. Just like the barren
fields outside of Austin, Visser is simultaneously
seductive and repulsive, affably despicable. He
conducts his dark business with a perpetual grin that
could not be farther from sinister. Visser is just a
happy-go-lucky hitman whose incongruous actions and
attitudes make him, like Marty, unpredictable and fun
to watch.
If nothing else, Blood Simple's re-release allows a
theater-going audience to look back at what first
established the cinematic trademarks of a Coen
brothers' production: unique characterization, visual
flare, and story lines that careen wildly from
outrageous comedy to gripping horror. Long before
critical accolades, long before million dollar
budgets, the Coens' work revealed a uniquely offbeat
vision and engaging, entertaining storytelling that
overturned the rock of human behavior and took a close
look at all the lunacy and savagery beneath.