O Brother, Where Art Thou?

The Coen brothers, Ethan and Joel, claim that their marvellously entertaining new film "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" is based on, as the opening credits put it, "'The Odyssey' by Homer." Let it be said: the only way this film will disappoint you is if you come to the theater looking for an update of that classic tale of seafaring and sorceresses and nymphs. This film is based on "The Odyssey" in the same sense that "10 Things I Hate About You" was based on "The Taming of the Shrew"; that is to say, it's not based on it much at all.

But while Homer may have left the building, "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" still pays its respects to "The Odyssey" both with an episodic narrative structure and with the type of engrossing storytelling that used to come from the mouths of blind poets but now is almost exclusively found, if we're lucky, in the cinema.

Odysseus' counterpart in this film, Ulysses Everett McGill (George Clooney), is not so much cunning as loquacious, foppish and stupid. Incarcerated in the great state of Mississippi during the Great Depression, he escapes from a chain gang with the two men he's chained to, Pete (John Turturro) and Delmar (Tim Blake Nelson), who distinguish themselves from Everett by being less loquacious (Delmar) and even dumber (Pete). Everett has induced his compatriots to take to the lam by telling them of his hidden cache of $1.2 million, which must be recovered before the valley in which it lies is flooded by the TVA in the interest of progress. In the process of trying to get to this cache, they scrape and steal and flee from the law and meet a wide variety of interestingly sinister folk. Yet it turns out that Everett may have misrepresented his true goal, and it also turns out that everyone the three fugitives come into contact with will have some role in the knockabout penultimate scene where rags truly do turn to riches for our dynamic trio.

The Coens create this sort of dreamlife of a depression with glowing panoramic shots of countryside, their own particular and discerning eye for strangenesses that are just normal enough that they must be taken seriously, and a lovingly chosen soundtrack around which the entire film revolves. The idea of a film being made mostly as an excuse for its soundtrack may not seem particularly appealing to you, but you haven't heard this soundtrack, either: classic performances of blues, bluegrass, and real-deal folk music, not that mamby-pamby "adult contemporary folk" crap we listen to oftentimes on the radio. Almost every significant character here sings or takes advantage of those who do, just like in real life, and while the lip-syncing may not always be impeccable, the recordings always motivate the plot and captivate any open-minded listener.

The Coens have also engaged numerous outstanding actors to seal the deal. Often in his films, Clooney seems to be playing George Clooney, who apparently is quite the suave, sarcastic, loquacious, handsome man, rather than whatever character he has been hired to portray. Here, however, he takes his natural sarcasm, loquacity and handsomeness and puts them at the service of his character. In other words, this leading man at the height of his career is willing to appear dumb as a post for our entertainment. Good job! Nelson and Turturro simply inhabit their roles, to wonderful effect; Nelson is particularly charming as a slow man who nonetheless has a certain blunt wisdom about him.

And, as in any Coen brothers film, minor and major eccentrics drop in and out of the film so often that you miss 'em when they're not there: an incandescently gleeful yet insecure bank robber, singing sisters who talk in turn, a couple of the oiliest politicians you'll ever see, and many, many others. Among these, John Goodman is particularly fine as a one-eyed Bible salesman with a somewhat different idea of how to bring God's word to man.

In some Coen brothers films, one gets a sense that the Coens are leading their characters through tribulations with the glee of ten-year-olds pulling wings off flies, which has always been a sticking point in enjoying much of their oeuvre. Thankfully, this is an essentially genial film, and most of the supporting characters reinforce that geniality in some way. This way, when the Coens depict stark evil at a KKK rally, the event actually feels as evil as it is, with flames reflecting off the red silk of a cackling Grand Wizard. In fact, the Coens control the tone superbly throughout, which seals the deal.

What we have here is a smart, hilarious, occasionally touching entertainment that, for all its various incidental pretensions, will communicate to everyone who watches it. "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" won't come out here until January, but that's okay; it can be one of the best films of 2001.

WAIT FOR IT

The estimable Robert Kahn, who attended "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" with yours truly, would like it noted for the record that John Goodman's scene is almost a direct rip-off of (excuse me, "reference to") "Waiting for Godot" (which Mr. Kahn has actually acted in, so it can be presumed that he knows what he is talking about). I will not give away all the parallels, because it would ruin part of the movie. See it for yourself.

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