John Wick: Chapter 2 (dir. by Chad Stahelski) Review

Posted on February 28, 2026 by Arleigh

“You stabbed the devil in the back and forced him back into the life that he had just left. You incinerated the priest’s temple, burned it to the ground. Now he’s free… What do you think he’ll do?” — Winston Scott

John Wick: Chapter 2 picks up right where the first film left off, diving headfirst into a world of high-stakes assassinations and stylish revenge with Keanu Reeves back as the grieving, unstoppable hitman. It’s a sequel that doubles down on the balletic action and expands the mythology without losing that raw, personal edge from the original. Directed by Chad Stahelski, it delivers non-stop thrills but occasionally stumbles with its sprawling plot and relentless pace.

John Wick is trying to lay low after avenging his dog’s death and reclaiming his car, but fate—or more specifically, a blood oath called a “marker”—drags him back into the game. An Italian crime lord named Santino D’Antonio cashes in that marker, forcing Wick to assassinate his own sister so Santino can take over the family empire. What starts as a reluctant job spirals into a city-wide manhunt, with Wick racking up bodies across New York and Rome while navigating the Continental Hotel’s strict no-kill rules and the politics of a shadowy assassin network. The story is still simple at its core—do a job, get betrayed, fight your way out—but it peels back more layers of this underworld, introducing gold coins as currency, tailors who outfit killers like runway models, and sommeliers who pair firearms with clients like fine wine.

Keanu Reeves owns the role here, his stoic intensity and physical commitment making every punch and headshot feel earned. He’s not exactly stretching himself as an actor—his deadpan delivery borders on monotone—but in this context, that restraint works, turning Wick into a mythic figure who’s equal parts broken widower and relentless killing machine. The supporting cast adds plenty of flavor: Common shines as Cassian, Santino’s loyal bodyguard and Wick’s equal in a fight, with their subway duel using silenced pistols becoming an instant standout for its mix of tension and dark humor. Ian McShane returns as Winston, the Continental’s suave manager, bringing a dry, almost amused detachment to the chaos, while Ruby Rose makes an impression as Ares, Santino’s mute enforcer whose sign-language threats and sharp physicality speak louder than words. Laurence Fishburne appears as the Bowery King, chewing scenery and hinting at deeper rivalries to come. Not every character is fully fleshed out—Santino himself sometimes veers into cartoonish villain territory—but the ensemble keeps the film lively and fun to watch.

The action is where John Wick: Chapter 2 truly shines, cranking the first film’s gun-fu into something close to operatic. Much of the authenticity in the gunplay choreography stems from Keanu Reeves’ legendary dedication to his craft—he trained extensively with celebrity gun trainer Taran Butler and Taran Tactical Innovations, becoming an expert 3-gun practitioner in the process. Taran Tactical not only provided the custom guns for this film and its subsequent sequels but also helped craft the realistic, fluid shooting sequences that feel like a masterclass in tactical movement. The opening car chase and warehouse brawl set the tone, with Wick dismantling goons using everything from knives to close-quarters takedowns. Later comes the much-teased moment where he turns a humble pencil into a lethally precise weapon. The Rome sequence is a highlight: Wick moves through catacombs and nightclubs like a walking arsenal, turning ancient corridors into a bullet-riddled maze, then facing a relentless wave of assassins amid concert lights and stone arches. The stairwell brawl with Cassian is brutal and almost slapstick in its escalation, as the two tumble down step after step, refusing to quit. A hall-of-mirrors shootout plays with reflection and distortion, turning gunfights into something visually playful as well as deadly. The camera stays steady and clear, letting you appreciate the choreography instead of hiding it behind shaky cam and quick cuts, which makes the violence feel both visceral and strangely elegant.

Visually, the film is a neon-soaked feast, trading the first movie’s moody blues for more varied, vibrant palettes. Cinematography leans into bold colors and strong compositions: the Continental’s warm golds, Rome’s stony greys and rich reds, New York’s cold night streets lit by harsh white and electric signage. The production design sells the assassin world as both stylish and slightly surreal. You get bespoke atelier shops that sell tactical suits lined with experimental ballistic-resistant fabric, underground vaults where every weapon looks museum-ready, and Continental sommeliers who double as gun experts, recommending the best weapons for whatever task is at hand. The score and sound design lean heavily into pulsing electronic beats and percussive hits that sync with the rhythm of gunshots and blows, giving big set pieces a musical, almost dance-like quality.

That said, the film is not without its flaws. At a little over two hours, it sometimes feels like it’s indulging its world-building at the expense of pacing. The explanation of markers, excommunication rules, and the High Table is cool in theory, but the movie occasionally pauses too long to explain its own lore when you’d rather keep the momentum going. Compared to the raw emotional drive of the first film—where a dead dog and stolen car were more than enough to get you fully on Wick’s side—this one’s central motivation feels more mechanical. He’s bound by honor and obligation here, which makes sense for the character, but doesn’t hit with the same gut-level impact. There’s also less room for genuine character development; Wick mostly shifts between “tired” and “angry,” and the supporting cast, as entertaining as they are, tend to orbit him rather than grow in their own right.

Tone-wise, John Wick: Chapter 2 leans even harder into heightened, borderline comic-book absurdity. The idea that there are assassins on every street corner, all answering the same call, is fun but pushes the world toward parody if you think too hard about it. The body count is enormous, the kill shots are almost always headshots, and the film rarely slows down to let the gravity of that register. There are moments of humor—deadpan exchanges, visual gags, Wick’s resigned reactions to yet another betrayal—that keep it from feeling grim, but they’re more like pressure valves than fully integrated wit. If you’re looking for commentary on violence or a deconstruction of the hitman myth, this isn’t that movie. It’s more interested in giving you the cleanest, slickest version of the fantasy and trusting you to go along for the ride.

On representation and subtext, the movie is pretty standard action fare: mostly male, mostly focused on coolness over any deeper exploration of gender, race, or class. Characters like Ares and Gianna D’Antonio hint at more interesting female perspectives within this world, but they’re quickly sidelined or removed from play. The Bowery King’s network suggests a class-conscious angle—homeless people as invisible eyes and ears of the city—but the film doesn’t dwell on it beyond the “secret army in plain sight” trope. None of this ruins the film, but it does keep it from feeling particularly fresh outside of its choreography and design.

Where the movie really succeeds is in firmly establishing John Wick as an ongoing franchise rather than a one-off surprise hit. The ending pushes Wick into even more precarious territory and sets up a larger arc without feeling like pure sequel bait. It expands the playground, raises the stakes, and leaves him in a place where you genuinely want to see what comes next. If the first film was a tightly contained revenge story, John Wick: Chapter 2 is the moment the series decides to become a full-blown saga.

Overall, John Wick: Chapter 2 is a stylish, hyper-violent, and extremely entertaining sequel that leans into its strengths—choreography, world-building, and Keanu Reeves’ physical presence—while showing a few growing pains in pacing and emotional weight. It may not have the purity or surprise factor of the original, but it compensates by embracing a larger, crazier canvas and delivering some of the most memorable action set pieces of the last decade. If you’re on board with the idea of a grief-stricken assassin turning his pain into an art form of meticulously staged carnage, this chapter absolutely delivers.

Weapons used by John Wick throughout the film

Glock 34 (TTI Combat Master Package): His go-to sidearm early on, customized by Taran Tactical Innovations (TTI); dual-wielded in the catacombs and against Gianna’s guards in Rome.
Heckler & Koch P30L (compensator-fitted): Opens the film disarming a henchman; buried post-use along with first-film gear.
Kimber Super Carry Custom (reverse two-tone, compensator): Provided by the Bowery King and used chasing Santino.
TTI TR-1 Ultralight (AR-15 carbine build): Iconic Rome rifle from the sommelier, with BCM mods, Trijicon scope, and PRI compensator; catacombs massacre shootout.
Benelli M4 Super 90 (TTI customized): Sommelier special in Rome; shredded through catacombs enemies.

John Wick Franchise (spinoffs)

John Wick

Review: Constantine (dir. by Francis Lawrence)

Posted on January 11, 2026 by Arleigh

“Heaven and Hell are right here, behind every wall, every window, the world behind the world. And we’re smack in the middle.” — John Constantine

Constantine is one of those mid-2000s comic book adaptations that never quite hit mainstream classic status but has quietly built a loyal cult following, and it is pretty easy to see why once you revisit it. On the surface it is a supernatural action movie about a chain‑smoking exorcist stomping demons in Los Angeles; underneath, it is wrestling with guilt, faith, and whether redemption is even possible for someone who does not think they deserve it. The film is messy in spots but strangely compelling, and that tension between pulpy cool and spiritual angst is a big part of its charm.

Keanu Reeves plays John Constantine as a tired, bitter man who has seen way too much of both Hell and humanity to have patience for either. This version of Constantine is loosely adapted from DC’s Hellblazer comics, but the film leans into a distinctly Hollywood noir vibe: he is not a wisecracking British punk in a tan trench coat so much as a burnt‑out L.A. exorcist in a black suit who chain‑smokes like it is a survival mechanism. That shift understandably annoyed some comic fans, but taken on its own terms, this Constantine works. Reeves’s usual reserved style actually fits a guy who has emotionally checked out; he moves through scenes like someone who has accepted that his life is transactional and almost over, and there is something darkly funny about how little awe he shows when confronted with angels and demons. Even when the script gives him on‑the‑nose lines about damnation, he plays them with a kind of deadpan resignation that keeps the character from turning into a parody.

The basic setup is simple enough: Constantine can see “half‑breeds,” angelic and demonic entities who nudge humanity toward good or evil while technically obeying a truce between Heaven and Hell. As a child, he tried to kill himself because of these visions, and that suicide attempt has doomed his soul to Hell. Now he works as a freelance exorcist, trying to earn his way back into God’s good graces, not out of pure faith but out of sheer self‑preservation. That dynamic gives the movie a strong hook—this is a protagonist who is doing the “right” thing for profoundly self‑centered reasons. When he gets pulled into a mystery involving a police detective, Angela (Rachel Weisz), investigating her twin sister’s apparent suicide, the film folds in a noirish murder case, religious prophecy, and a scheme that could break the balance between Heaven and Hell. It is all a bit overstuffed, but there is a certain pleasure in how seriously the movie commits to its supernatural mythology.

Visually, Constantine is where the film really separates itself from a lot of its contemporaries. Director Francis Lawrence leans hard into a grungy, stylized urban Hellscape—Los Angeles feels damp, sickly, and spiritually polluted even before anyone literally steps into Hell. When Constantine does cross over, Hell is portrayed as a blasted version of our world, frozen in an eternal atomic blast, buildings shattered and howling winds full of ash and debris. It is not subtle, but it is memorable, and many of the images still hold up surprisingly well for a 2005 effects‑heavy movie. The demon designs are gnarly without becoming cartoonish, the exorcism sequences have a tactile, physical quality, and the movie uses practical effects and lighting cleverly to smooth over the limitations of its CG. Even small visual touches—like holy relics turned into weapons or tattoos used as mystical triggers—help sell the idea that this world is saturated with hidden religious warfare.

The cast around Reeves does a lot of heavy lifting. Rachel Weisz brings warmth and vulnerability to Angela, grounding the story whenever it threatens to float away in theological technobabble. Her dual role as both Angela and her deceased twin gives the plot some emotional weight beyond cosmic stakes. Tilda Swinton’s Gabriel is one of the film’s secret weapons: androgynous, cool, and quietly menacing, Gabriel feels alien in a way that fits an angel who has spent too long watching humans from a distance. Then there is Peter Stormare’s Satan, who shows up late in the game and somehow steals the entire third act with a performance that is gleefully gross and oddly charismatic; his version of Lucifer is barefoot, in a white suit stained with tar, amused and disgusted by Constantine in equal measure. These performances keep the movie watchable even when the script gets tangled in its own mythology.

Tonally, Constantine lives in an odd space between horror, action, and supernatural thriller. On one hand, it has jump scares, grotesque demons, and a very dark sense of humor. On the other, it features extended action beats where Constantine straps on a holy shotgun and goes demon hunting like a paranormal hitman. The film is at its best when it leans into slow‑burn dread and eerie atmosphere—scenes like the early exorcism or Angela’s first encounters with the supernatural feel genuinely unsettling. When it shifts into more conventional action territory, it is fun but less distinctive; some sequences play like obligatory “we need a set piece here” insertions rather than organic escalations of the story. The score and sound design help stitch it all together, layering in ominous drones, choral elements, and sharp sound cues that emphasize the hellish undertones without getting too bombastic.

One of the more interesting aspects of Constantine is how it treats belief and morality. The film’s theology is a mash‑up of Catholic imagery, comic‑book lore, and Hollywood invention, and if you are looking for doctrinal accuracy, you will probably walk away frustrated. But as metaphor, it works better than it has any right to. God and the devil are treated almost like distant power brokers using Earth as their battleground, the angels and demons as middle management enforcing a “rules of the game” structure that Constantine constantly pushes against. What saves it from feeling totally cynical is that the film does not ultimately let Constantine win by gaming the system; his big climactic play hinges on a genuinely selfless act. There is a sense, however stylized, that grace and sacrifice still matter, even in a world that treats salvation like paperwork. At the same time, the movie is very much a product of its edgy 2000s era, and at points it flirts with the idea that faith is mostly about loopholes and bargaining, which might put some viewers off.

That brings up another key point: Constantine is absolutely not a family‑friendly comic book movie. It is full of disturbing imagery, body horror, and bleak subject matter like suicide, damnation, and spiritual despair. The violence is often grotesque rather than purely action‑oriented, and the general mood is closer to a horror film than a superhero romp. The R rating is well earned. For some audiences, those elements will be exactly what makes the movie interesting—a comic book adaptation that is not afraid to be nasty and heavy. For others, the relentless grimness and graphic content will feel excessive, especially when paired with a mythology that is, frankly, all over the place.

Where Constantine stumbles most is in its storytelling clarity and pacing. The film loves its jargon: half‑breeds, the Spear of Destiny, balance between realms, rules of engagement, obscure relics tossed into dialogue with minimal explanation. If you are not already inclined to meet the movie halfway, it can feel like a pile of cool‑sounding concepts that never fully cohere into a clean narrative. The central mystery—what really happened to Angela’s sister and why—is engaging early on, but as the plot widens into apocalyptic stakes, some of the emotional throughline gets lost in exposition. The pacing can be uneven too, moving from slow, moody sequences to abrupt bursts of action, then back to dense dialogue. It is rarely boring, but it can feel disjointed.

Compared to the Hellblazer source material, the film definitely sandpapers off some of John Constantine’s rougher, more politically charged edges and transplants him into a more conventional action framework. Fans of the comics often point to the loss of his British identity, the absence of his punk roots, and the more simplified view of magic and the occult as major flaws. Those criticisms are fair if you are judging the adaptation on fidelity. As a stand‑alone movie, though, Constantine carves out a distinct identity: a moody, grimy, spiritually obsessed supernatural noir built around a protagonist who is more tired than heroic. It is less about clever schemes and more about a man who has done terrible things realizing that the only way out is to finally stop acting in his own interest.

In the years since its release, Constantine has aged better than a lot of early comic book movies. The visual style remains striking, the performances are still strong, and its willingness to be weird and bleak makes it stand out in a landscape that increasingly favors quip‑heavy, crowd‑pleasing superhero fare. The flip side is that its flaws—clunky exposition, a sometimes incoherent mythology, and a very specific grim tone—are just as apparent as they were in 2005. Whether it works for you will depend a lot on how much patience you have for religious horror dressed up as action cinema. Taken as a whole, Constantine is an imperfect but memorable ride: stylish, occasionally profound, frequently ridiculous, and ultimately more interesting than many cleaner, safer adaptations.

Brad reviews THE LAST STAND (2013), starring Arnold Schwarzenegger!

Posted on August 10, 2025 by Bradley Crain

After eight years of serving as Governor of California, Arnold Schwarzenegger made his big comeback as an action movie star in director Kim Jee-woon’s THE LAST STAND (2013). Sure, he put in a little work on the first two EXPENDABLES movies, but those were really just glorified cameos. Here, Arnold was front and center for the film’s 107 minute running time. This was an exciting time for me, because like most action movie fans, I loved him and had truly missed seeing him consistently kicking butt and taking names on the big screen. I gladly made my way to the movie theater in January of 2013 for a large tub of ‘corn, a big Mr. Pibb, and the true return of an action megastar!!

In THE LAST STAND, Schwarzenegger plays Ray Owens, a former LAPD narcotics officer who chose to leave the big city and take a job as the sheriff of the quiet, southern border town of Sommerton, Arizona. It won’t be quiet for long after notorious drug kingpin Gabriel Cortez (Eduardo Noriega) makes a daring escape from FBI custody. Cortez immediately heads towards the border in a souped up Corvette where an advanced group of highly trained gunmen, led by Burrell (Peter Stormare), are waiting to help him cross. Cortez and his small army of mercenaries appear to be on a collision course with Sheriff Owens and his ragtag group of deputies, including Mike (Luis Guzman), Jerry (Zach Gilford), and Sarah (Jaimie Alexander). Knowing they’re outgunned and outmanned, Sheriff Owens asks for additional help from ex-military man and current drunk Frank Martinez (Rodrigo Santoro), as well as the crazy local gun nut Lewis Dinkum (Johnny Knoxville). Add to this mixture, FBI agent John Bannister (Forest Whitaker) and his team’s attempts to try to stop Cortez before he gets to Sommerton, and the stage is set for lots of action!

I really liked THE LAST STAND when I saw it at the movie theater in 2013, and I really liked it again when I revisited the film this week. I made it a habit many years ago to not read reviews of a film before I go see it at the theater. I had found that reading potential negative comments could affect my viewing of a film, so I cut that out. As such, after totally enjoying myself with THE LAST STAND, I was surprised that the film wasn’t received very strongly by the audience or critical community, and I was even more surprised that it completely flopped at the box office, only bringing in a total of $12 million in the United States during its run. For me, the film delivered what I was looking for… Arnold Schwarzenegger kicking ass, spouting off some good one-liners, and outsmarting and outmuscling his much younger adversaries! No critic or keyboard warrior can take that away from me, as THE LAST STAND is an entertaining movie with a good cast. Heck, even the great Harry Dean Stanton pops in for a surprise cameo at the beginning of the action.

I also appreciate the fact that THE LAST STAND is the American directorial debut of the great South Korean director Kim Jee-woon, who has directed some of my favorite South Korean films, including A BITTERSWEET LIFE (2005) and I SAW THE DEVIL (2010). His direction brings some Asian flair that results in stronger, more graphic violence, as well a penchant for jarring changes in tone between humorous character interplay and sometimes violent tragedy. In a movie designed primarily as a piece of entertainment, I appreciate those more over-the-top touches that lift it above the norm.

Overall, I easily recommend THE LAST STAND to fans of Arnold Schwarzenegger and old-school action movies. It’s not a Schwarzenegger classic in the same way as movies like PREDATOR (1987), TERMINATOR 2 (1991), and TRUE LIES (1994), but it’s still a fun ride!

Guilty Pleasure No. 78: Armageddon (dir by Michael Bay)

Posted on March 20, 2025 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Remember that time that Bruce Willis and a team of oil drillers saved all of humanity from a giant asteroid that was apparently the size of Texas?

Sure, you do! Everyone remembers Armageddon!

1998’s Armageddon is a film that doesn’t get a lot of respect but which everyone remembers. There’s been a lot of movies made about giant asteroids on a collision path with the Earth. Ever since scientists announced that a collision with a comet or an asteroid probably killed the dinosaurs, there’s been a somewhat irrational fear that the same thing could happen to us. Back in 1978, Sean Connery and Karl Malden tried to stop a Meteor (and failed). In 1998, the same year that Armageddon came out, Morgan Freeman, Robert Duvall, and Elijah Wood tried to stop an asteroid from causing a Deep Impact (and failed). Adam McKay made an entire film about everyone saying, “Don’t Look Up,” in an attempt to promote increased panic about climate change (and failed). (“I’m so scared!” Leonardo DiCaprio shouted and audiences responded, “Oh, calm down.”) And yet, it’s Armageddon — ridiculed by critics, endlessly parodied by other movies — that people use as their go-to source for commenting on the prospect of a mass extinction event. Mostly because, in Armageddon, humanity didn’t fail. Bruce Willis showed that asteroid who was boss!

Why do we love Armageddon? A lot of it has to do with the cast. Not only do you have Bruce Willis battling an asteroid but you’ve also got Steve Buscemi, Owen Wilson, Ben Affleck, Will Patton, Michael Clarke Duncan, Peter Stormare, William Fichtner, and a host of others working with him. You’ve got Billy Bob Thornton working ground control. You’ve got Liv Tyler, somehow managing to give a decent performance even while Ben Affleck attacks her with animal crackers. It’s not just the cast is full of familiar and likable actors. It’s that the members of the cast know exactly what type of film that they’re appearing in and they all give exactly the right type of performance for that film. They deliver their lines with conviction while not making the mistake of taking themselves too seriously. Bruce Willis announces that his crew will destroy that asteroid in return for never having to pay taxes again and he announces with just the slightest hint of a smirk, knowing that the audience is going to cheer that moment.

But really, the real reason why Armageddon has survived that test of time is because it’s just so utterly shameless. Director Michael Bay will never be accused of being a subtle director but Bay instinctively understood that Armageddon was not a film that demanded subtlety. Armageddon is a film that demands that constantly moving camera and all of those carefully composed scenes that were clearly made so they could be included in the trailer. It’s a film about big moments and big emotions. Unlike something like Deep Impact, it doesn’t get bogged down in trying to be better than it actually is. Unlike Don’t Look Now, it doesn’t degenerate into a bunch of histrionic speeches. Armageddon exists to make the audience cheer and it succeeds. It takes guts to include a slow motion scene of a bunch of kids celebrating in front of a faded Kennedy For President poster but Bay is exactly the type of director who can pull that off. Michael Bay’s style is not right for a lot of films. But it was perfect for Armageddon.

As I sit here typing this, there are some people panicking because there’s speculation that a meteor is going approach the Earth in the 2030s. It’ll probably miss us but who knows? But you know what? I’m not worried at all. I’ve seen Armageddon. So, on this International Earth Day, let’s remember the courageous men who saved this planet back in 1998.

Previous Guilty Pleasures

Lisa Marie Reviews An Oscar Nominee: Fargo (dir by the Coen Brothers)

Posted on January 9, 2025 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Photograph by Erin Nicole

I am currently sitting in my bedroom, wrapped in several blankets and watching the snow fall on the other side of my window. I love snow, mostly because I live in Texas and therefore, I don’t get to see it that often. The most snow we’ve gotten down here, at least in my lifetime, was in 2021. That was when we got hit by that blizzard and had to deal with rolling blackouts for a week straight. That’s not a good memory but still, I love to watch the snow fall. Even during that blizzard, I still loved the fact that I could use the snow as a nightlight as I read a Mickey Spillane book and waited for the power to come back on.

Down here in North Texas, snow is exotic. In other parts of the country, it’s just a part of everyday life.

Like in the Dakotas for instance….

First released in 1996 and directed by the Coen Brothers, Fargo is a film that is full of arresting images. As soon as you hear (or read) the title, those images and the sounds associated with them immediately pop into your head. You immediately visualize the desperate car salesman Jerry Lundegaard (William H. Macy) trying to trick a customer into paying extra for the trucoat and insisting that “I’m not getting snippy here!” You see the film’s two kidnappers, Carl Showalter (Steve Buscemi) and Gaear Grimsud (Peter Stomare), getting on each other’s nerves as they drive from one frozen location to another. You remember heavily pregnant Marge Gunderson (Frances McDormand) investigating a snowy crime scene and gently correcting another officer’s “police work.” You flash back to the moment when Mike Yanagita (Steve Park) suddenly breaks down in tears and tells Marge that she’s a super lady. “And it’s a beautiful day,” Marge says at one point, wondering how so many terrible things could have happened on such a lovely day. And she’s right. It was a beautiful day. It was far too beautiful a day to discover one man stuffing another into a woodchipper.

Myself, I always think of the scene where Carl attempts to find a place to hide a briefcase full of money. It’s night. Carl’s been shot in the face but he has the money that he’s gone through so much trouble to collect. He runs into a field, looking for a place to hide it. The field is covered in snow. Every inch of the ground glows a bright white. Everything looks the same. But Carl still runs around desperately before picking a place to bury the suitcase. It doesn’t seem to occur to Carl that there’s no visible landmarks or anything that would ever help him to find the money again. He’s blinded, by the snow, by the pain of the bullet, and, like most of the characters in this movie, by his own greed.

Of course, Fargo is not a film about people behaving in intelligent ways. Greed, loneliness, and desperation all lead to people doing some pretty stupid things. Jerry thinks that the best way to pay off his debts and raise the money for a real estate deal is to arrange for his wife to be kidnapped so his wealthy father-in-law (Harve Presnell) will pay the ransom. His father-in-law, who obviously despises Jerry and would be happy for him to just go away, is convinced that he’ll be able to both get back his daughter and recover his money. (If Jerry had just spent a moment really thinking about his plan before going through with it, he would have realized his father-in-law would never just part with his money.) Carl thinks that it’s a good idea to partner up with the obviously sociopathic Grimsud. When a cop pulls over Carl and Grimsud’s car, Grimsud ignores the fact that Carl was talking his way out of the ticket and instead kills the policeman and then kills several eyewitnesses. (“I told you not to stop.”) Marge figures out what is going on but even she puts her life in danger by investigating a cabin without proper backup. The characters in Fargo frequently behave in ludicrous ways and almost all of them speak with an exaggerated regional dialect (All together now: “Oh yeah,”) but they also feel incredibly real. The sad truth of the matter is that there are people as greedy, dumb, and hapless in the world as Jerry. There are people like Carl and Grimsud. Even Jerry’s fearsome father-in-law is a very familiar type of character. People do thing without thinking and inevitably, they make things worse the more overwhelmed they become. Common sense (not to mention decency) is frequently the last thing that anyone considers. Fortunately, Marge is believable too. Marge at times almost seems so gentle and polite (“No, why don’t you sit over there?” she sweetly tells Mike when he attempts to get too close to her.) that the viewer worries about what’s going to happen to her when she gets closer and closer to figuring out what’s going on. Fortunately, Marge turns out to be much stronger than anyone, even the viewer, expected. The world of Fargo can be a terrible place but there’s moments of kindness and hope as well.

Fargo is both a comedy and a drama. The opening title card says that the film is based on a true story, which is a typical Coen Brothers joke. (The film was loosely inspired by several similar crimes but the story itself is fictional.) Carter Burwell’s dramatic score is both appropriately grand and also gently satiric. Jerry does some terrible things but William H. Macy plays him as being so naive and desperate and ultimately overwhelmed that it’s hard not to have a little sympathy for him. Jerry truly thought it would be so simple to pull off a complicated crime. (The poor guy can’t even get the ice off of his windshield.) As played by Steve Buscemi, Carl Showalter talks nonstop and he makes you laugh despite yourself. His shock at how poorly everything goes is one of the film’s highlights. It’s a funny film but it’s also a sad one. I always worry about what’s going to happen to Jerry’s son. Ultimately, of course, the film belongs to Frances McDormand, who gives a wonderful performance as Marge. She’s the heart of the film, the one who reminds the viewer that there are good people in the world.

Considering the film’s cultural impact, it’s always somewhat shocking to remember that Fargo did not win the Oscar for Best Picture. It lost to The English Patient, a film about a homewrecker who helps the Nazis. Personally, I prefer Fargo.