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THE MAN WHO WASN'T THERE (2001)Starring Billy Bob Thornton, Frances McDormand, James Gandolfini.
Directed by Joel Coen.
MPAA rating: R
Homer Simpson, that paragon of 90's cool and Cro-Magnon wit, was once asked to judge a film festival--the first ever to roost in his hometown of Springfield. The field of dozens (or possibly more) in that festival was whittled down to a group of three. Film A was a big-budget, Hollywood-style "waste of celluloid"--if I may be permitted to put words in the mouths of Homer's panel mates--funded by Simpson's boss. Film B consisted of one scene, from one angle, shot in the style of America's Funniest Home Videos: an old guy gets hit in the groin by a football. Homer found it hilarious. Film C was an artsy noir about the desolate existence of an alcoholic who has been shunned by society for most of his life (Homer's fellow barfly Barney). Film C is chosen by most judges as the winner, but Homer is enamoured with film B. He ends up choosing the "deserving" film--he bows under the pressure of his fellow judges--but not without some serious deliberation. I can't blame him. Personally, I would have chosen either of the former two.
The Man Who Wasn't There, a recently released but rarely seen film written by the famous Coen Brothers (Fargo, O Brother Where Art Thou?), is a film in the vein of the latter. Shot entirely in black and white (in the space-age epoch of 2001), and centred around the life of a barber, this is not the type of film that will keep you on the edge of your seat--or even keep your gluteus on the bench for more than half and hour. It is a film that the critics loved (Ebert and Roeper, who may be the only two men whose opinions really matters when it comes to the cinema, gave it two thumbs up), and is the type that would appeal to the folks at Cannes, Sundance, and to purists who can't stand Hollywood's usual rot. But if you're male (pardon the stereotype), under the age of 35, and not a film student, this movie will put you to sleep. And you probably won't understand--or care to understand--most of it.
I will freely admit that there's a lot about this film I didn't get. There are quite a few metaphors, double meanings and symbolism that I couldn't, in the weary state in which I viewed it, understand and couldn't read into. Such things would be poured over by university-level drama students (from what I understand, when they're not learning how to act, they actually study theatre in its many forms) and the fine folks teaching cinema 101 at postsecondary institutions across the country. But we'll leave that to them. By the time the lead character waxes philosophical about follicles, you won't care. At one point he turns to his fellow barber and says "Frank? This hair. Do you ever think about it? How it keeps on coming? I mean, it keeps growing...it's a part of us, and then we cut it off and then throw it away." Frank's response is "What the h--- are you talking about?" This is what the viewer wonders.
Billy Bob Thornton, who has the lead role, is quite a capable actor, but seems wasted here. He maintains the same facial expression throughout the movie, and utters only a handful of words in each scene. The rest of his acting comes as the narrator.
To his credit, Thornton has accepted a healthy mix of "safe" and more daring films in his career, and to my knowledge can't be considered anything less than loyal to his craft since he broke into Hollywood with Slingblade. But this is a miss. He's poorly supported, by a cast that includes a bevy of TV actors (James Gandolfini, Michael Badalucco from "The Practice" and that guy who played Antonio on Wings are given prominent roles) and a number of C-list stiffs.
Closing
Great art, someone once said, should not only entertain, but teach those who take it in about life. Unfortunately, most art today gives you either or. You likely won't be entertained by The Man Who Wasn't There, but if you watch it a few times, you might come away with a little of the latter. If you can stomach it, my hat is off.
Note: Viewers should be advised that there is some foul language, some violent scenes and two incidents involving crude sexuality. The film is rated "R" for a reason. You may want to skip it for these reasons alone.
- Ben Forrest
May 15, 2002
May 15, 2002
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