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Showing posts with the label NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN

1996, the best year in movie history, pt. 87: Eye of God

Last month, I reviewed a sad movie. This month’s movie is sadder.

The director, Tim Blake Nelson, paints a bleak picture of his home state. Eye of God (1997) is set in Kingfisher, a real town between Enid and Oklahoma City. The streets, houses, public buildings, and parks are neither beautiful nor hideous. They’re authentic.

It’s curious that the movie is based on a stage play. Yes, one of its strengths is theatrical: its use of extended, intricate dialog. But much is gained from filming the actors’ speeches at close range.

In one tender scene, a young woman removes her glass eye, passes it over to a young man, and asks him to reinsert the eye into her face. I suppose that the actions of this scene could be performed on a stage. Photographed up close, however, they’re immeasurably more intimate.

Rythmically, also, the story benefits from cinematic reconfiguration. Brief sequences are spliced into longer ones, as asides or interjections. (The dialog of a “main” scene often continues, as voiceover, during these “asides.”) Action glides forward and backward in time. Tragedy and violence are insinuated or foreshadowed, then brought into present actuality, then made to recede as the scene returns to a tranquil earlier moment – to the calm preceding the storm.

My theory about the title, which probably isn’t quite right, because it leaves out God, is that it’s meant to evoke the “eye” of a storm. Turbulence occurs before and at the end of the story. In between: doldrums.

If Kingfisher is quiet – downright boring – it’s a false calm. Tension is unrelenting. Everyone is waiting for the next dust storm or tornado or blast of wickedness.

(It counts against my theory that the movie has no dust storms or tornadoes.)

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

An emotionally disturbed fourteen-year-old boy (Nick Stahl) is found wandering the town, covered in blood. Whose?

A young woman (Martha Plimpton) meets a young man (Ken Anderson). He has just been released from prison. They’ve been writing to each other. She is nervous. She wants to leave. He is scrupulously polite but subtly, fiercely insistent. She stays. They arrange to meet again. These early meetings are sweet. We have misgivings.

The young man goes to his parole officer (Richard Jenkins). The parole officer is alternately brusque and chummy. He tells his charge that he and his wife have been trying to get pregnant, that he has to wind up the meeting to go and have another try. Who in his right mind would say such a thing at work, let alone at a first meeting, and to a criminal? The cause gradually becomes clear. It plagues everyone in this town. The parole officer is so lonely that he can’t discern whom not to involve himself with.

Even the most guarded townspeople – e.g., the disturbed, all-but-silent youngster – succumb to this affliction. It’s what drives the young woman to look for love where she does.

The parolee and the young woman see more of each other. They get to know each other better. He is religious. She, less so.

As the situation deteriorates, we become acquainted with an old sheriff (Hol Holbrook). We already know the type. He tries to make sense of the sad things he’s witnessed; in so doing, he hearkens forward to the famous opening monologue of Tommy Lee Jones’s sheriff in No Country for Old Men. Eye of God, too, begins with its sheriff’s voice. The sherrif recounts the Genesis story of Isaac’s binding. God had His reasons; Abraham had his. The sheriff is especially interested in Isaac’s point of view. How was life for the boy, after that moment of terror? The sheriff is concerned for the youngster who has been found, covered in blood, wandering the town. It’s not the youngster’s first encounter with violent death.

Other pieces are added to these, and in time the puzzle reveals its picture. We don’t mind that not all is explained at once: every scene is interesting. The parts are, perhaps, superior to the whole. Certain images and themes are less-than-satisfactorily fitted together: religious devotion, seeing and unseeing eyes, loneliness, childlessness, fertility. When I write these reviews, I am guided – goaded – by the urge to reconcile disparate themes. No interpretation obviously suggests itself on this occasion. I don’t mind. The actions, the characters, the feelings are compelling. I’m happy to be carried along on an episodic tour of this sad town. I would watch this movie again, and soon.

The blizzard; a lean Christmas; a border crossing

So far, this hasn’t been such a formidable blizzard, although, surely, someone is suffering from it, and for all I know someone has died or will die; and it’s costing us a chunk of change because two nights ago Karin was in a minor crash in a snowy intersection. She had to pay the other driver; her own car’s headlight was smashed; and yesterday, she found out that her car was leaking steering fluid. This is one of those mishaps that it’s dismayingly hard to budget for. (This, and Jasper’s veterinary needs, which never fail to astound.) I have called this blog entry “A Lean Christmas,” although that isn’t really true: we already have bought our goodies, and our needs are met. It might be a lean-ish winter, though.

Edoarda & Stephen have traveled to Nicaragua, as they usually do at Christmastime; on this occasion, they flew to Costa Rica first. I understand that they walked across the border with their suitcases. It’s easier than having Edoarda’s family drive across from Nicaragua and then across again.

The U.S. snowstorm wreaked havoc upon their air travel. They spent a night in an airport terminal.

John-Paul: “Have you arrived in Nicaragua?”

Stephen: “Yes.”

Stephen: “After 30 hours of planes, (sky)trains, and automobiles.”

Stephen: “We left right before the storm got too bad in South Bend. The flight almost didn’t leave.”

John-Paul: “Mom & Dad told me about most of it. How was the Costa Rica-to-Nicaragua border crossing?”

Stephen: “Not bad. Took about 30 minutes total.”

Stephen: “But then … we left behind my carry-on.”

Stephen: “Here’s what I told Mom about it:”

Stephen: “‘I have some bad news. When we crossed the border, someone in the family took my carry-on. I heard people discuss where to acomodar it as I went in the truck, but it somehow got descuidado and left at the border. I lost most of my clothes that I brought, Edo’s Christmas present, and your copy of Shantung Compound. 🙁 I’m sorry.’”

John-Paul: “I’m sorry. It sounds like the border crossing in No Country for Old Men.”

Stephen: “Ha, not that bad.”

Stephen: “Just got back from getting some new clothes. I’ll survive.”

John-Paul: “I’m sure you are as well turned out as ever.”

Stephen: “T shirts and shorts.”

Stephen: “Some underwear.”

John-Paul: “Yes, go on.”

Stephen: “Socks.”

Stephen: “That’s it.”

Stephen: “I forgot to get some zapatillas.”

(Lightly edited.)

I have returned Stephen’s copy of Faceless Killers and am reading The Dogs of Riga, which is shaping up to have more snow in it.