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Last Updated: Nov 14, 2008 - 12:49:26 PM |
**** out of five
It’s hard to imagine any other directors or writers in Hollywood who would be able to pull off Burn After Reading like the Coen brothers have. Sure, others could try, but no one else could really take this motley collection of sad-sack characters and imbue them with the same mixture of raucous humor and tragedy that the Coens do.
There’s Osborne Cox (John Malkovich), a CIA agent who writes his memoirs, only to see the disk containing them end up in the hands of two gym employees: dimwitted Chad Feldheimer (Brad Pitt) and plastic-surgery-obsessed, single-minded Linda Litzke (Frances McDormand), both of whom try to profit off their new-found discovery. Meanwhile, Cox’s wife Katie (Tilda Swinton) is carrying on an affair with married suburban scumbag Harry Pfarrar (George Clooney) and planning to soak her husband for all he’s worth. Oh, and there’s a love-struck gym boss, a handful of Russians, and J.K. Simmons.
Simmons’ character, a CIA officer, sums up the movie best: “Report back to me, I don’t know, when it makes sense.” At any given time, there’s so much going on – so many people lying and cheating and backstabbing and stealing and sleeping with one another – that the plot threads ought to get tangled up in one another. And the fact that they don’t is just a testament to the Coens’ skill. As convoluted and ridiculous as it should be, it still seems perfectly logical onscreen.
One thing the Coens have always gotten spot-on is casting; here, they’ve collected a high-profile cast of A-listers, and promptly ask every single A-lister to make complete buffoons of themselves. Pitt, all frosted tips and incredulous profanity, plays Chad with the eager excitability (and intelligence) of a gerbil. Malkovich spends much of his time lolling about in an open bathrobe and underwear, staring vacantly and getting progressively drunker. McDormand’s Linda – both a deconstruction and a loving embrace of the dissatisfied, lonely suburbanite – might be one of the richest creations film has seen this year, but her bright-eyed obliviousness makes her the best member of what one character calls a “league of morons.”
None of these characters are particularly likable, of course; and most of them are dumb as rocks. Motivated by their greed, their physical desires, their hunt for personal satisfaction, they’re all out to get what they want at the expense of everyone else. To put it bluntly, they’re self-centered jerks.
Again, this hearkens back to the Coens’ deft handling. Writing a jerk, or a cast of jerks, is not a difficult task; the challenge is making those jerks interesting or intriguing enough to keep us caring about them – or even root for them. And on occasion, we do root for all of these simpletons, as horrible as they are.
Rooting for them defies logic, certainly. But the Coen brothers operate on their own plane of logic, and while we’re in their world, we play by their rules. So set aside any qualms, take a seat, and spend an hour-and-a-half enjoying the company of an inappropriately hilarious group of morons. It’s a wise choice.
Burn After Reading runs 96 minutes and is rated R for pervasive language, some sexual content, and violence. Viewed at Southpark 16.
ereel@villagepublishing.com | 751-0421
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