A renowned New York playwright is enticed to California to write for the movies and discovers the hellish truth of Hollywood.
The Coen brothers are some of the best around at delivering character driven movies. They seem to be equally adept at both comedy and drama, often throwing in more than the odd tip of the hat to classic Hollywood cinema. Barton Fink is no exception to this, but it also betrays something of a distaste for the Hollywood machine, despite an affection for some of its products.
Like many of the Coens' regular stable of actors, John Turturro is an underrated performer, capable of much more than he has been given to work with in his more high profile roles of late (i.e. the Transformers films, which also featured another Coen favourite, Frances McDormand). He carries the film well in this instance, the passionate, yet naive writer he portrays leaving plenty of room for everything from clumsy awkwardness to the depths of despair. He's not the only one to shine.
The supporting cast of John Goodman, Steve Buscemi, Tony Shalhoub, John Mahoney, the list goes on, are superb. Each bringing their own unique flavour to proceedings, as well as their characters providing plenty in the way of larger than life bluster. The majority serve as the antithesis to Turturro's Barton, his slightly withdrawn, almost shy disposition battered senseless by the onslaught of greedy industry types. A weak man he is not, but most certainly not accustomed to the brash insensitivity that he is subjected to. Dialogue is integral to this kind of material and, as usual with these film-makers, disappointment is not a factor that comes into play.
Considering the fact that the majority of the film takes place in the halls and rooms of a low rent hotel, there is much to appreciate visually. Framing and composition are one of the movie's strong points and there's a Shining-esque dread that hangs over many of the eerier scenes. What the sets deliberately lack in vibrancy, they more than make up for in the subtle subtexts that really set the tone of the flick. This also facilitates some nice contrasts, particularly in colour, between the hotel and the more richly lit offices of the studio moguls, all blinding lights and polished glass.
The plot takes some surprising turns, considering the confines in which it takes place, weaving enough intrigue into the writer's predicament to keep us from joining him in his panicked and disillusioned state. The scenes between Turturro and Goodman are particularly worthy of note in this respect and the relationship between their respective roles is pivotal to the success of the film. These moments are also where the bulk of the humour lies, though this is definitely a picture that showcases the darker side of the Coens' catalogue. These factors combined result in a flick in which fans of their work will find much to appreciate.
The Verdict:
7.5/10
A surprisingly eerie picture that is defined by its excellent cast and imposing characters.
Two best friends living on the streets of Portland as hustlers embark on a journey of self discovery and find their relationship stumbling along the way.
The beauty of this film lies in its simplicity. That's not to say that there's not much going on, rather that it doesn't hold back. My Own Private Idaho is an open, honest picture that contains little in the way of subtext and it's this that makes it feel so raw and immediate.
The world is populated by a cast of increasingly colourful characters, each seemingly more bereft of a desire to fit in with society than the last. The film holds a consistent focus on the seedier side of city life with both drugs and prostitution having huge parts to play in shaping the lives and decisions of the protagonists, the most interesting of whom is River Phoenix's Mike.
Mike is a troubled man. Whilst he is in no way gullible, he is undeniably vulnerable. His constant pining for the estranged mother that left him behind frequently serves as a trigger for his debilitating narcolepsy. As an aside, narcolepsy as a non-comedic trait is unique in my personal experience of cinema and it adds a real sense of individuality to the journey that Mike takes over the course of the film. The snippets of dreams and memories that visit him as he is incapacitated have an achingly wistful feel to them, a heavy air of bittersweet nostalgia hanging over each recollection and fantasy.
In addition to the characters themselves, the production is also stark in its absence of complication. Intertitles are presented with bright, single-coloured backgrounds. They mark clear breaks in the advance of the plot, at the same time adding to the arty feel of some segments of the film. There is never any room for misinterpretation and it's always clear where we find ourselves, or that we are moving on to a new chapter as the story continues to unfold. This artiness is also very pronounced in the love scenes, with each encounter being dealt with through a series of stills, though not in the traditional sense. Rather than use photographs, each frame is posed in what is clearly real time, as it's sometimes obvious the actors are having great difficulty staying in the more challenging positions. I can only assume this was a stylistic choice and it definitely enhances the already 'rough and ready' feel of the flick.
River Phoenix is still sorely missed and his performance here is one of many reasons why. Reeves is not a complete lost cause either, his natural, detached demeanour working well with the role that he plays. Both bring a great deal to a film that comes across as very personal and gives deep insights into the predicaments of those involved, as well as life in general.
The Verdict:
7/10
A raw, yet insightful flick that draws much of its vitality from being both deliberately upfront and rough around the edges in equal measure.
