The Coen Brothers
Ronald Bergen
Orion £18.99, pp256
Buy it at BOL
How do you write a biography of the Coen Brothers? With difficulty, it seems. The leading postmodernists of US independent cinema like to keep an enigmatic profile. They give interviews but rarely give anything away. Their allusive movies such as Raising Arizona and Fargo are offbeat paeans to Americana, which subvert genres and borrow liberally from literature and other films. A Coen brothers film is worth seeing more than once - to catch the joke in the corner of the frame, recognise that sly reference or simply to get to grips with the plot.
It's hard to know where Joel (the eldest and taller) starts and Ethan ends. On paper, Joel directs and co-writes and Ethan produces and co-writes. In practice, it's an equal partnership. 'At times, it was like being directed in stereo,' recalls one actor. Ronald Bergan makes little attempt to distinguish between the pair who, although now in their forties, still look like anaemic postgraduate students.
Born in cold, dreary Minnesota to intellectual Jewish parents, they describe themselves as Jew-ish. Unlike Woody Allen, their ethnic background is not an obvious inspiration. Barton Fink is the only film featuring a Jewish protagonist.
Apart from different spouses and the revelation that Joel is more 'visual' and Ethan more 'literature', we learn little. Bergan's subjects declined extensive interviews but allowed some access; he visits the set of their film O Brother, Where Art Thou, a Depression-era convict comedy starring George Clooney.
'You can print whatever you want,' Ethan tells him. 'You don't have to confirm anything.' What emerges is too much prosaic testimony from colleagues about a couple of eccentric yet dedicated guys who really know their stuff.
But should you take them seriously? Are they genuine auteurs or overgrown college pranksters? Undoubtedly, they are major figures in American film, consistently challenging and beguiling audiences. Their dialogue revels in high and low vernacular, while their camerawork is breathlessly inventive on a low budget. Sadly, this book fails to do them justice. As a critical biographer, Bergan seems unsure if there is much to analyse. So, in the chapters about their seven films to date, he is good on technical aspects. He also meticulously details those references, including nods to Dashiell Hammett (Miller's Crossing), Clifford Odets (Barton Fink) and Truffaut's Shoot the Pianist (Fargo).
But he fails in critical evaluation. Bergan is a fan but offers little hard evidence. He doesn't even rate the films according to personal preference. Instead, you discover that, like Hitchcock, their films are completely storyboarded prior to filming.
Ironically, the brothers probably aren't as smart as their fans might believe. They claim they are often credited with creating homages and pastiches to works they're unfamiliar with. 'When we read the books we were supposed to have read,' says Joel, 'we came up with new ideas for movies.' This could be another joke, but Bergan supplies a personal anecdote when they were offered an introduction to the great Polish director Krzysztof Kieslowski at Cannes. 'Who's Kieslowski?' one of them asked.
Despite only two real box-office successes to date - Raising Arizona and Fargo (arguably their most conventional and linear film) - they retain their creative autonomy. They always get the final cut even though their budgets have risen steadily in recent years.
To the White Sea, their next film after O Brother, is a $60 million Second World War epic starring Brad Pitt. They're not outsiders anymore. Like Allen, stars want to work with them for a pittance. But are they in danger of losing the edgy sensibility that makes them unique? After all, Brad Pitt? And a blockbuster budget? Whatever will the folks say back in Minnesota.
