No Country For Old Men

No Country for Old Men is a Good Movie. Like most Good Movies, it’s depressing as hell. I had always known it was a Good Movie, but I purposefully never went to see it. Reason being, extreme violence makes me incredibly nervous and highly uncomfortable, thematically important though that extreme violence may be.

But there I was, sitting in class. My time had come. I was going to see this cinematic masterpiece and I was going to like it.

Real-time portraits of my increasingly agitated state.

And I did like it. Even though my internal monologue during the film was roughly:

“Interesting opening monologue… oh. Oh God. Oh God he’s strangling that guy. He’s strangling that deputy! Oh my God. There are scuffs on the floor from where he was struggling! Don’t pull over. Don’t pull over. You pulled over. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD WHAT IS THAT THING? Call it right, call it right, please, please, please call it right. Covering eyes… don’t look, don’t look, don’t look… HE JUST BLEW A HOLE IN THAT GUY. PRESSURIZED AIR CANON??? LOU ELLEN RUN RUN RUN. MOVE TO MEXICO AND NEVER COME BACK. OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD. CALL IT RIGHT CALL IT RIGHT CALL IT RIGHT. WHY WONT YOU CALL IT?? CALL IT??? I appreciate why you won’t call it. Suddenly car???? Sherif??? Walking??? Wait. Wait. Is it over? It’s over?? … WHAT.”

Insert verbal and non-verbal whimpering and that’s just about accurate. When I wasn’t freaking out, I did have time to notice how pretty the movie really was. The use of contrasting blue and yellow lighting in some of the scenes really sticks out in my mind, as does the almost oppressive darkness of others.