‘I’m not sure I agree with you a hundred per cent on your police work, there, Lou...’
I watch a lot of films. Over three hundred a year on average. Most of those I’m viewing for the first time and to be honest many of them are a slog. Why do I do it? I’ve always had a natural inclination towards completion. You can’t see every film ever released, but you can work through the classics. This means that when I do revisit something that I truly love, it really is special. Watching Fargo again for the first time in over a decade was a timely reminder in an age of endless reboots and remakes (Fargo itself was rebooted as a successful TV show in 2014) that cinema can be perfect. Not just good. Not just great. But perfect…
Staring financial ruin in the face and with the walls closing in, used car salesman Jerry Lundegaard (William H. Macy) concocts a ridiculous plot to have his own wife (Kristin Rudrüd) kidnapped in order to extort money from his wealthy father-in-law Wade (Harve Presnell). In order to do this he enlists the help of a pair of hired guns: the talkative and short-tempered “funny-looking” guy Carl (Steve Buscemi) and his silent but menacing partner Gaear (Peter Stormare).
I should begin with a reminder that I have always considered 12 Angry Men and Glengarry Glen Ross to be the best-acted films of all time. Watching Fargo made me reconsider that assertion. While McDormand, doing career-best work here, is incredible, and deservedly won a Best Leading Actress Oscar, all the other main players are just as good, as are the supporting cast. H. Macy perfectly captures the quiet desperation of a man on the edge, Buscemi brings some much-needed levity to the proceedings and John Carroll Lynch is as watchable as ever as Marge’s reliable and loving husband Norm. This is a talented cast and a legendary directing team genuinely firing on all cylinders. Witness the scene where Marge reunites with her old school friend Mike Yanagita (Steve Park) in a Twin Cities diner. This moment has no relevance to the rest of the film in terms of plot, but it is a beautiful example of character development and world-building. We learn more about Marge Gunderson in that scene than lesser movies manage with their protagonists in their entire run time.
I will finish by repeating what I said earlier. Fargo is a perfect movie. Roger Deakins’ cinematography is heart-stopping, the blinding white snow of Minneapolis contrasting starkly with the reds and blacks both worn and shed by the characters, Carter Burwell’s haunting score swells and diminishes at just the right moments, and the Coen’s Oscar-winning screenplay ties all of these disparate elements together into a cohesive whole. A genuine masterpiece and one of the greatest films ever made.