Note: In anticipation of the Oscars, the following is a review of a best picture nominee missed during its original theatrical run.
[img]7|left|||no_popup[/img]We join, without fanfare, a life in progress as physics Prof. Larry Gopnick experiences what is euphemistically described as a “rough patch.” His wife, Judith, wants to divorce him so she can marry family friend and ostensibly “serious” man Sy Ableman, played by Fred Melamed with a curious and fascinating oiliness. At school, a Korean student comically attempts to bribe Gopnick for a passing grade while the tenure committee considers his application in the midst of a hostile letter-writing campaign. Complicating life at home is a brother, performed with sensitivity and turbulence by Richard Kind as a socially graceless mathematical savant, overstaying his welcome. And that’s just for starters. To a large extent, the catalog of minor calamities isn’t so important as their accumulation and the fatalistic humour inherent in their recurrence. There is an escalation of sorts, but the film is unequivocally ambiguous about what, if any, significance there is to be squeezed from it. We’re on our own, in other words, as to what it all means – and that’s the point.
One can admire the poetry with which the Coen Brothers re-enact themes from the Book of Job, even if their eloquence stems from their mastery of the cinematic medium rather than their choice of an elliptical quasi-narrative prologue by an invented Yiddish folk tale. There is, arguably, a measure of dignity in their refusal to offer any sort of interpretation, let alone the comfort of a story that begins, develops, and somehow ends (the film just stops); it’s just the kind of artiness that lets us appreciate the Coens’ skill for insinuation — a skill equal to their ability to wield very biting humour. But how much fun is it, really, to perform an exegesis on a glib Kafkaesque allegory? For all its formal elegance and intellectual allusions, A Serious Man is far too smug about questions it has no intention of answering- in this case, about the meaning of living and suffering in the context of the Jewish experience. The Coens have fun with the three rabbis’ responses to poor, befuddled Larry’s cry for help in understanding what’s going on, but the problem is that, despite being given rather serious answers, Larry merely stumbles along to nothing, the very model of driftwood caught in a whirlpool. Don’t blame Michael Stuhlbarg, however, for the lack of philosophical acumen and accomplishment; he delivers as fine a Job as one could hope for this side of Two and Half Men’s Jon Cryer. But as with other cast members, his is a performance in search of an impact; certainly there is little reason to become emotionally invested in a film more cerebral than passionate, more tease than reward.
No sooner can one dismiss A Serious Man as a well-crafted case of bad faith nihilism than the possibility of a ruse comes to mind, beginning with the question of what God has against Larry Gopnick. Yet unlike the Bible, God is not a character or direct presence in the film’s narrative. That God may be at all involved in Gopnick’s troubles is strictly an assumption on the part of viewers. Where the film falters is in the characters’ non-existent consideration of the possibility that God simply doesn’t exist – then again, this isn’t a film that takes answers seriously – it is more that viewers are being poked for the beliefs they themselves bring rather than anything the Coens may or not want to convey. The subtlest irony, however, lies in the easy dismissal of the rabbi’s advice – again by viewers more so than the Coens – the eldest of whom doesn’t speak to Gopnick but does offer a few choice song lyrics to Larry’s son Daniel on the occasion of his bar itzvah. Yet all three offer different but valid perspectives. They say it’s hard to recognize the Devil when you meet him. Harder still, it seems, is recognizing meaningful advice.
Entertainment: * (out of two)
Craft: ** (out of two)
A Serious Man. Written and directed by Joel and Ethan Coen. Starring Michael Stuhlbarg, Richard Kind, Fred Melamed, Sari Lennick and Adam Arkin. In English with occasional Yiddish and Hebrew. 104 minutes. Rated R (for language, some sexuality and nudity and brief violence).
Frédérik invites you to visit his blog, www.inkandashes.net.