|
Truly original
by Stephen Wong
Homer's "The Odyssey" set in a Depression era Deep South? It's got to be a Coen Brothers production. Armed with a silver-tongued George Clooney as our wandering Odysseus-esque hero Ulysses Everett McGill, a fascinating bluegrass/folk/blues dominated soundtrack, and wonderfully textured cinematography, "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" - the title is a homage to Preston Sturges's "Sullivan's Travels" (1941) - is one of the most uniquely entertaining comedies in recent memory.
Rotting away in a chain gang in Mississippi, Ulysses decides to finagle his way to freedom by dragging
along two unsuspecting fellow convicts, using their help to hopefully find (and split) $1.2 million in
treasure that Ulysses buried just before his stint of bad luck with the law. Together, the motley trio
embark on a grand adventure that takes them anywhere from a recording studio to a Ku Klux Klan meeting,
and everywhere in between. Loosely based on "The Odyssey", there are blind prophets, sirens,
a Cyclops (John Goodman as an eye-patch wearin' Bible salesman), a wife (Holly Hunter) being courted by
a suitor, and even some bovine carnage fun (you will be in shock). There is a humorous subplot involving
a midget-laden Mississippi gubernatorial race, and Charles Durning as incumbent Governor Pappy O'Daniel
is absolutely hilarious.
As the goofy other two-thirds of the trio, John Turturro as the unbalanced Pete and Tim Blake Nelson as the sweet natured Delmar round out a superb
cast that's as eclectic and engaging as the Coen Brothers' 1996 masterpiece "Fargo." And Clooney's
rapid-fire intellectual prose is truly something to behold. Which actually brings me to make a point
about Clooney. After "Batman & Robin," has he made a bad film? Okay, some of you will argue about
"A Perfect Storm," but I think his role choices have been incredible of late. Anyways, back to the
review. The film's inimitable musical score uses many remastered bluegrass and folk tunes of the era,
and the film's catchy main (and oft repeated) track, "Man Of Constant Sorrow," is one I still find
myself belting out in random and mostly awkward times. The film's cinematography, which is flooded
with the dry, sepia tone aridness of a squelching day in the Depression era Deep South, actually
utilizes a unique process that digitizes the entire film and modifies via computer software the
hues and saturations of the picture. It's like peering into a moving vintage photograph.
The film is sometimes unbalanced and stretched, and those unlearned in Homer's work will probably
find the film sporadic and hard to follow. Still, it's a uniquely witty picture that has many rewards,
as long as you keep both your eyes and ears peeled.
Stephen Wong, 2001
|