Cast: Billy Bob Thornton, Frances McDormand, James Gandolfini, Michael Badalucco, Scarlett Johansson, Jon Polito, Tony Shalhoub, Katherine Borowitz
Director: Joel Coen
Producers: Ethan Coen, Tim Bevan, Eric Fellner
Screenplay: Joel & Ethan Coen
Cinematography: Roger Deakins
Music: Carter Burwell
U.S. Distributor: USA Films
These days, it seems like every filmmaker wants to do something that can be described as "Hitchcockian". The intent isn't just to venture into modern film noir, but to replicate the elements that earned Hitchcock the title of "Master of Suspense". Unfortunately, most of these attempts come across as cheap knock-offs, relying on overplotted storylines full of lurid twists. For the Coen Brothers, no strangers to the thriller genre, the challenge was to evoke the specter of Hitchcock without going too far. It's said that there's a fine line between an homage and a theft, and, with The Man Who Wasn't There, the Coens have remained consistently on the right side of that invisible boundary. The result is an unconventional, unpredictable thriller that Hitchcock probably would have enjoyed.
For dour Ed Crane (Billy Bob Thornton), the life of a hair-cutter is a thankless one, probably because, in his own words, "I worked in a barber's shop, but I never considered myself a barber." It's a few years after the second World War, and Ed finds his existence to be a joyless exercise in monotonous repetition. He goes to work every day, puts in his hours, then returns home to his philandering, alcoholic wife, Doris (Frances McDormand). Ed knows that his wife is having an affair with her boss, Big Dave Brewster (James Gandolfini), but it doesn't bother him much. He just has another smoke and scowls some more. In fact, he figures out a way he can use it to his advantage. When a sleazy salesman (Jon Polito) offers Ed the opportunity to be a silent partner in a business arrangement, Ed gets the cash by anonymously blackmailing Big Dave. "Unless you pay $10,000," the note sent by Ed reads, "Everyone will know what you have been up to." Big Dave pays, but that's only the beginning of a cycle of deceit that leads to murder, cover-ups, and a singular example of judicial irony.
The thing I appreciated the most about The Man Who Wasn't There is the unhurried, sinuous manner in which the plot moves - it twists and turns without being obvious about its surprises, and doesn't rush to get there the way so many movies do. The pace is not so much slow as it is deliberate. The movie has a lot to offer, but only to those who are patient with it. How about, for example, oddball subplots involving an alien abduction and a Lolita-like attraction? The main narrative offers its share of unexpected moments, so, in true Hitchcock fashion, the viewer is never exactly sure what's going to happen next. Along the way, we are provided with a running voiceover narration by Ed that, for once, doesn't seem superfluous. Then there's the ending, which I won't talk about here except to say that it's deliciously ironic and entirely appropriate.
Although Hitchcock did some of his top work in color, he is probably best remembered as a "black and white" director, and that's the medium in which the Coens have elected to film this tribute. Joel Coen has no trouble contrasting shadow and light, and it makes for a striking looking motion picture. Style has been the hallmark of every Coen Brothers film to date, and this is no exception. The screenplay is laced with macabre humor - another frequent trait of Hitchcock (and the Coens). Even the title, The Man Who Wasn't There, conjures up images of Jimmy Stewart or Cary Grant. Instead of those two, we get Billy Bob Thornton, making his inaugural appearance in a Coen Brothers movie, as the unlikable protagonist. Opposite Thornton is the always-reliable Frances McDormand, who has become a staple in movies directed by her husband. Smaller, noteworthy roles go to James Gandolfini, once again trying to get past his Tony Soprano image (as it turns out, however, there's a little of Tony in Big Dave); Tony Shalhoub as a no-nonsense, fast-talking lawyer; and Scarlett Johansson as a teenage girl who is not as innocent as she looks.
The Coen Brothers are known for making offbeat fare, from their brilliant debut, Blood Simple, to the off-the-wall comedy of Raising Arizona, to the snow-blinded strangeness of Fargo. Compared to those films, The Man Who Wasn't There is almost conventional. Those looking for the typical Coen outlandishness may be disappointed; on the other hand, those in search of a genuine Hitchcock homage will probably be pleased. The Man Who Wasn't There reminds us of how entertaining a thriller can be when it concentrates on storyline rather than the overused staples of car chases and shoot-outs.
© 2001 James Berardinelli