Blood Simple (1984)

I’m such a fan of the Coen Brothers that Blood Simple (1984) is low on my list of favourites since it is their first (directed by Joel Coen, produced by Ethan Coen, written and basically made together). From the show-off camera moves and bold imagery to the way in which action over dialogue is emphasised and silences are filled with portent, it carries the marks of a debut film out to impress. But in watching the Blu Ray of the Director’s Cut, the imagery is so vibrant from the neon of Marty’s bar to the noir contrasts of a shovel backlit by car lights. There’s also that horror movie snap to the aesthetic, vibing off from Sam Riami, and adding blood and vomit to a reworking of a classic murder double cross. The characters are archetypes but the actors are all compelling, even a young Frances McDormand adds shading and depth to a thin part. The future of the Coens and their tonal bridge between pastiche and existentialism is there in the character of Visser, the gargarious, sweaty private detective played by M. Emmet Walsh who is at once both an ornery good old boy and an immoral agent of chaos, his voice over and machinations echoing across their later films (No Country For Old Men in particular). In its low budget indie roots, there’s a sense of place and atmosphere in its Texan setting. And then the recurring symbol of the overhead fan, the god’s eye image of nihilistic fate. Recommended.