A tragic song for outsiders

Garnett 2022-10-28 18:54:26

There are countless movies depicting the unlucky fate of little people, but in the Coen Brothers' "The Absent Man", the deepest feeling left by a series of incidents is not how unfortunate the protagonist is, but how impermanent life is. The kind of bitterness that clearly realizes that he has been applauded by fate, can't find any way out, but still maintains a cold expression. The protagonist Ed is a barber in a small town, a middle-aged man who is obedient, honest, reticent, and insignificant. Such men are often the most difficult to see through, because they are too ordinary and inconspicuous, and it is difficult to make people live. The thought of scrutinizing carefully. The expression on Ed's face is almost the only one from the moment of appearance to the end of the curtain. You can only smell the subtle signs of inner fluctuations from his eyes and eyebrows through the lingering smoke. After Dave found out that Ed was the person who wrote the anonymous letter to blackmail him, he questioned him, "What kind of person are you?" Later, Frank yelled at him the same question in court. Ed probably couldn't answer how he became the way he is now. For such a small person, his previous life seemed so unthinking and logical. The marriage with his wife was first proposed by Doris two weeks after they dated. After the marriage, he worked as a barber in his brother-in-law’s shop. He was not the chief, had no property rights, and did not recognize his profession in his heart, but was locked in a barber shop by instinct. many years. You may even have an illusion: as if all this can only be like this, there have never been other options. It seems that investing in the dry cleaning industry seems to be the fuse of all problems, but this is not a turning point in fate. This is just one of the anxiety symptoms produced by the mid-life crisis on Ed. For Ed, there is no clear turning point in fate. The essence of the tragedy does not lie in accidentally triggering a certain organ and then everything goes to a halt, but in that if this organ is not triggered, the problem will already exist and there is no way to avoid it. If life is like a play, then Ed is the most lame actor, who can only recite his lines in an indifferent and mechanical manner, without the slightest difference or betting on any emotions. Dave's death, his wife's betrayal and suicide, Frank's collapse did not change his pace of life and attitude towards life, as if none of this happened to him. The acceleration and derailment of the train of destiny was as uncontrollable as growing hair. Faced with all kinds of mockery, he could only take a deep cigarette, and then fell into a deeper powerlessness. Ed's greatest effort from start to finish is probably for Birdy's career. There is something about the Lolita complex of middle-aged men, but more It is a spiritual transfer. He found a certain escape and peace in the sound of Birdy's piano. Birdy's youth allowed him to see the possibility of controlling his life. He could no longer stand by and watch the opportunity slip away, and he could not tolerate Birdy falling into the same involuntary quagmire like him. Of course, fate only once again confirmed his insignificance. In addition to the typical characterization, the meticulous use of expressive techniques also highlights this sense of powerlessness. On the one hand, the black and white images restore the real sense of the times, and on the other hand, they enhance the contrast of the picture. They complement the slow and calm monologue, creating a lonely tone that deepens as the plot advances. The soundtrack is also very concise. Except for the soothing and clean piano sonata (a large part of which is borrowed from Birdy), there is not too much noisy and intense soundtrack. The Coen brothers dissolved their precise grasp of rhythm and atmosphere into these blanks. The same is true in the narrative. Although the film is about a life out of control, it is shown in a very controlled way. The plot has many twists but the explanation is very clear, without the slightest disorder. Ironic contrast and black humor can be seen everywhere. They are not the kind of premature or excessive exaggeration to laugh at the boss: Frank's endless gossip, speculative businessmen's flamboyant rhetoric, lawyers' exaggerated uncertainty principle, and another prisoner's when visiting prison. Howling in pain... It just stamped Ed's silence deeper. The multiple echoes in the details are also delicately arranged and naturally not artificial, such as the recurring image of flying saucers-representing a certain kind of unknowable; Dave's words about serving as a soldier and the trophy knife were later killed in two different ways. He; there is also the section where the prison guard shaved his legs when Ed was sentenced, echoing the scene when he shaved his wife's legs before and his "hair philosophy" as a hairdresser. I don’t know if the Coen brothers deliberately borrowed Camus’s "The Outsider" when they were creating the film. At least in my opinion, the kind of unspeakable depression and anxiety hidden under the calm surface, that kind of shows nothing to the people and things around them. The state of untouched dissociation, the sense of hopelessness and helplessness that is completely incapable of intervening in the absurd judgment system, are so similar. He lives day after day, always keeping a distance from life. He is a bystander, an outsider, and a person who has not been there all the time. But you see, he didn't see more clearly, instead he was stuck in the maze and couldn't get out. Just like the uncertainty principle mentioned in the movie: Observation changes the event itself, and you can’t figure out what happened or what should happen. The more you observe, the less truth you know. Perhaps life just does not allow bystanders.

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Extended Reading

The Man Who Wasn't There quotes

  • Costanza: He's a barber right? It's a good trade. So why you got no kids, huh?

  • Ed Crane: Life has dealt me some bum cards. Or maybe I just haven't played 'em right, I don't know.