No Country for Old Men is a wild, sharp adaptation of Cormac McCarthy’s novel of the same name, in which many existential issues - including notions of predestined fate - unravel in a spectacular display of violence, intrigue and mystery.

Although it seems a lot of films are concerned with existential problems these days, No Country for Old Men is more profound than your average “magic happens” bumper sticker, and more interesting without the “everything-happens-for-a-reason” attitude. The plot concerns a simple cowboy, Llewellyn (played by Josh Brolin) who stumbles upon a drug deal gone wrong in the desert, and finds a case containing two and a half million dollars, which he decides to take. This seemingly inconsequential act triggers a series of unforseen events that catapult him toward a violent showdown with destiny.

Set among the barren Arizona wastelands, the narrative plays out in striking juxtaposition to the harsh beauty of the surrounding dunes, the lonely caravan parks, and the even more isolated roads. With incredible intimacy, the Coen brothers slowly reveal to us the dark underworld of this cruel environment, and the sinister folks that wait there. The film packs a nihilistic wallop that puts it on a par with some of Terrance Mallick’s work, especially Badlands and The Thin Red Line. The murders, which are more like ‘killings’, are vividly brutal and unsettling, however they also present an important warning that heightens the elegance of the overall impact.

Interestingly, I think there are some small transgressions in this film which have been made on purpose. As much as these are noticeable, I also believe they should be discussed in detail rather than dismissed, as they work to convey some of the more interesting symbols, and establish certain key power relations in the film. Interesting also, that No Country for Old Men does not boast a musical soundtrack, leaving only the sound of the sand as it passes eerily over the dead bodies. Like the rest of the film, this artistic choice is well warranted and impressively handled. 

The message of No Country for Old Men may be obscured, but it is visible, and it reminds me of the sort of profundity Franz Kafka achieved in The Trial. It is very arresting to see such philosophical notions illustrated in such a frightening way, and when they are, it demonstrates exactly how dangerous ideas can be. Cormac McCarthy’s novel has proved an exemplary text for the Coen brothers to adapt, and their film has lifted the standard for original, contemporary American filmmaking.