Burn After Reading

Writers/directors Joel and Ethan Coen are geniuses. I've known this for over 20 years, but today I had another confirmation. Only geniuses could make a film as loopy, uneven, nihilistically funny, and just downright silly as BURN AFTER READING. The non-fan will shake his or her head, perhaps much the same way the 10 or so walk-outs during my early afternoon screening did. Genius? Here? In this shaggy dog joke of a film? A film that is so smug in its depiction of a cast of imbeciles who try to swindle each other at every opportunity? What does the Coen Bros. devotee see in such a seemingly pointless run of 96 minutes, at the end of which we have two CIA guys who sum up the film's plot by stating quite frankly that they don't understand what happened and haven't learned anything? Well.....

What we have is another entry in the post masterpiece section of the Coens' CV. You know the type, the goofball sagas that followed the Truly Great pics: RAISING ARIZONA followed BLOOD SIMPLE THE BIG LEBOWSKI followed FARGO and now, BURN AFTER READING follows NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN There was also the case of the hissably bad INTOLERABLE CRUELTY following THE MAN WHO WASN'T THERE, but I don't consider the latter a masterpiece, though still pretty good. The Coens very deftly slam on the brakes and take a kamikaze detour after each of their classics. It is smart for their careers, and keeps everyone guessing. 

Initially, I didn't know what to make of LEBOWSKI, but now I think it's quite fine, an enduring stoner epic. I've always loved the quirkiness of ARIZONA. Now we have BURN, and I pretty much got what I was expecting. Should I bother to try to write a synopsis? A low level CIA agent (John Malkovich) is excused from his duties as an agent after spending a bit too much time nursing his bottle of Maker's Mark. He angrily composes his memoirs, only to discover that it has been copied and now in the posessession of two very dimwitted gym employees (Brad Pitt & Frances McDormand). Adding to this intrigue are Malkovich's icy physician wife (Tilda Swinton) and a rather paranoid federal marshall (George Clooney). 

The latter are having an affair. Clooney also meets McDormand on an Internet dating service, and also has a wife, an author of children's books who is constantly on promotional tours. McDormand is lonely and insecure about her entire life, especially her appearance. She covets four separate cosmetic surgeries she feels will give her a new lease on living. After all, she works at a gym! She has an image to portray! The discovery of the highly inflammatory memoir ignites her spirit-she can extort (thousands!) from its author and pay for her surgery. Failing that, there are always the Russians! Or even the Chinese! She enlists Pitt's assistance, leading to a series of slapstick ballets I would've never expected from the actor. He does some of his most amusing work since TWELVE MONKEYS here. There is much, much more. But the unpredictability of the picture is one of its pleasures. And it is danged funny at times. It is essentially a comedy, with a few gruesome moments for good measure, and they're played for laughs, too. One surprise death reminded me of that car scene in PULP FICTION-you're laughing at how sudden and random it is, just don't think on it too hard. 

The tone of BURN AFTER READING is probably closest to FARGO, which somehow tightroped between folksy and dark humor. Indeed, McDormand's Linda Litzke seems like the dimbulb cousin of FARGO's Marge, with her aw shucksims. In fact, she's virtually the only charcter who doesn't spout streams of profanity. Malkovich's Osborne Cox certainly does, and his hysterical performance is reason enough to see this film. He looks completely washed out and vampirish as the embittered agent, skulking his way through inane conversations with the principals. The "ransom" scene between him and Pitt is destined to become a comedy staple. His reaction to Pitt's gravity-defying coif alone is a great moment. Clooney mugs outrageously but gets plenty of his own laughs. Such as that structure he created down in his basement. His presentation of it to McDormand provides the film's most singularly obscenely riotously funny moment. Then there are those CIA guys (David Rasche and JK Simmons). As agent and supervisor, respectively, the two describe events we don't see and then comment on the whole calculus. They are somewhat like a low-key Greek chorus, but to me they were more like two weary film critics, trying to sort out the mess the Coens have created. BURN AFTER READING is ultimately a bit of a raspberry to the audience (again). 

NO COUNTRY wowed us, yes. The Coens now wish to knock us (and themselves) down a few more pegs. Lest anyone get a big head about it. So when the credits roll and we try to summate on our own, what are we left with? An absurd story with a plethora of nincumpoops whose actions don't matter and whose fates don't really inspire much emotional investment on the audience's part (excepting maybe Richard Jenkins' character). A fun way to kill an hour and a half. A treat for Coen Bros. fans. A film that is likely best enjoyed with a group of your smartest pals after you've consumed some adult beverages. I sat with a very appreciative audience; I can imagine this will play to complete silence and astonishment to the uninitiated. Future cult status-ASSURED.