by Ed Travis
A man buried alive in a freshly plowed Texas field, M. Emmet Walsh’s gloved fingers wiggling up under a closed window, the camera held on Frances Mcdormand’s face as the shot transforms from a bar to a bedroom in such a movie magical way that I still can’t quite figure it out this many years later. It’s the timeless imagery of Blood Simple that sticks in a viewers mind like glue, even when the details of the deceptively simple crimes of misunderstanding fade in between viewings, only to surprise and delight you again upon revisit.
Joel and Ethan Coen’s explosive Blood Simple announced the arrival to the big screen of Hollywood legends the likes of which are rarely seen in this generation. Most filmmakers will never craft a film as clever, white-knuckled, and iconic as Blood Simple, much less come out of the gate with something of this caliber on their very first try. And while they’ve proven time and again that the talent displayed here is no fluke, crafting dozens of varied and unique tales, there is something about Blood Simple which stands out as some of their finest work. Perhaps because of their relative inexperience and hunger to make a mark, Blood Simple drips with style and 1980s aesthetic in a way that could potentially be considered less timeless, but which cements it as a favorite among their body of work.
Watching Blood Simple is one of those rare and delightful experiences where you find yourself realizing that you wouldn’t change a single thing about it, even if the Coens, along with Director of Photography Barry Sonnenfeld in a commentary track for the film, do nothing but list the many dozens of things they themselves would change. From the casting to the small frills of laugh out loud dialog, to the Austin, TX locations, to the deeply human and imperfect actions of the characters which result in tragic and thrilling set pieces; even right down to the wardrobe, music cues, and young and energetic camera work, Blood Simple feels perfect. Or if not perfect, then at least a perfect preservation of a younger and less experienced Coen aesthetic that you are glad exists and can’t be tampered with or changed by the Coens themselves in their more experienced and matured present. [Note: Even with that said, they DID digitally alter and remove some things from this Criterion release… those tricky devils].
It is a film that relentlessly teases and delights the viewer, right up until the very final moments. Frances McDormand’s Abby and John Getz’s Ray begin an extramarital affair at the start of the film. An affair which the paranoid bar owner Marty (Dan Hedaya), Abby’s husband, is immediately aware of due to having hired a Private Detective (M. Emmet Walsh in an “all-timer” role as the nameless and baseless private eye) to track them. These four characters and their schemes will bounce off of one another in such brilliantly human and twisty ways that you won’t believe how complex it can all feel. The Coens throw red herrings into the mix, allow the audience to know more than the characters do, and then make us squirm and want to yell at the screen to prevent the mistakes they will inevitably make. There are frenzied moments of frenetic energy… then quiet and endless shots of Texas highways and horizons. The film is unmistakably Texan to its core, but also follows in the great traditions of noir; a western-thriller hybrid they would revisit again with No Country For Old Men, another of their very best films.
The term masterpiece gets thrown around too often these days, and certainly the debut film of young and ambitious filmmakers features technical flaws and immature stylistic decisions which perhaps should be regarded as knocks against a film’s overall quality. But when confronted with Blood Simple, I embrace every potential flaw as a treasured time capsule in Coen lore and find myself watching a film I’d claim is perfect. It’s an indefensible position, and one I’ll gladly defend none the less.
The Package
As a top tier Coen Brothers movie, a Criterion Blu-ray release of Blood Simple was already a must-own disc for me. What is exciting is that this disc more than lives up to my greatest hopes and becomes a must-own disc for even casual Coen fans or Criterion aficionados. The transfer looks achingly beautiful. I’m not a technician, but the grain and the colors here look precisely as I want them to. The package is exquisitely designed, with some of the most iconic images from the film represented on the packaging, booklet, and even on the disc itself. Hell, even the title font is aesthetically pleasing.
The bonus features back up the film and then some. I’ve already mentioned the clever not-quite-commentary feature with the Coens and Sonnenfeld. It’s around an hour of the three of these old friends watching the film, picking it apart, ripping themselves to shreds for their youthful inexperience, and even literally drawing on the screen like football commentators pointing out mistakes and flubs and pulling back the curtain on their techniques. It’s hugely endearing; and a fascinating experience finding yourself wanting to defend the film from its own creators or wishing you could tell them to let their younger selves off the hook a little bit and let their older film breathe. It also feels quintessentially Coen that they spend the whole commentary tearing themselves down without ever sounding false or anything but themselves. It’s a spectacular bonus feature which, along with the film itself, would have been enough to make this disc mandatory.
And yet, as is Criterion’s wont, the disc is packed with high quality, newly produced bonus content that’s even perfectly organized from an aesthetic point of view. There’s a great extended conversation with the Brothers Coen and author Dave Eggers. There are new interviews with both McDormand (Joel’s wife ever since this film) and M. Emmet Walsh, and interviews with the film’s primary composer Carter Burwell and sound mixer Skip Lievsay. Even the trailers, a bonus feature I routinely skip, are wonderful here, offering the “sales pitch” trailer which the Coens created and shared with investors before a single frame of the final film had ever been shot. Several of the iconic images and camera techniques survive into the final film from this stylish zero budget trailer. Then there’s the original trailer for the 1984 film, and even a newly cut trailer made for the Criterion 4K scan and re-release. It is a wonderful progression of trailer art; itself a fascinating and brief glimpse at how films are sold in different eras and stages of their life.
Criterion’s Blood Simple Blu-ray release instantly ranks as one of my most prized home video possessions. Along with their release of Thief, I just feel grateful it exists and each time I see it on my shelf, I’ll feel a bizarre sense of pride and gratitude. This is a magical pairing of great film, legendary filmmakers, and a film-loving distributor bringing their A-game from restoration and design, all the way through the creation of top tier supplemental content.
And I’m Out.