The country is a funny place. I think a lot of times it scares most people to death; being alone out there surrounded by nothing. What if something happens to you? No one will hear, no one will help, likewise no one will be there to share in your good fortune. Just clouds and sky above, dirt and rocks below. If you're in Texas anyway. I tend to avoid films or books that dramatize the horror vacui people experience in the open country. But I had to see this one.
West Texas is a common metaphor for barren ugliness in Oklahoma. "Well," people will say, "At least it ain't west Texas.". To think that someone would go through the trouble of making a movie out there. And it's as impeccable, sparse and empty as it should be. The air gun? Brilliant. My father is a cattle rancher; I have no illusions as to the fate of his herd. Air guns are (so I've been told, repeatedly) a humane and painless method of destruction. To use this device on humans is diabolical and richly ironic. To be executed in such manner by someone so inscrutable, driven, and fearless as the character of Anton gave me a glimpse of what the cattle must think before they perish. No Country is an engrossing and strange story of Nature, one I will likely not see as often as O Brother or Raising Arizona or even Fargo, but I appreciate that the Coens scooped up a handful of west Texas for us to contemplate before the wind blew it all away.
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