Sentences with phrase «coens most»

Coens most likely... but the 5th?

I've always enjoyed the Coens most with their tongues firmly planted in their cheeks, delivering a wryly comic view on the world that falls somewhere between the stalls of affectionate pastiche and David Lynch.

Not exact matches

An ode to art for art's sake, Inside Llewyn Davis is the most innocent movie of the Coens» career, which in their case is a downright radical achievement.

The Coens represent independent film with Fargo as well as any film from the»90s, setting their outlandishly funny tale in one of the most offbeat, curiously charming corners of the country, a stroke of genius.

• Although I think No Country is among the most thematically rich of the Coens» film — owing in large part to the source material, Cormac McCarthy's novel of the same name — what truly sets it apart is its technical virtuosity.

But it's Double Indemnity that gets name - checked most explicitly: The surname of the cheating wife and her unlucky husband in Cain's novel was Nirdlinger, the name of the department store in the Coens» film; in Billy Wilder's 1944 screen adaptation of the book, that surname was changed to Dietrichson, supplying the name of the medical examiner in The Man Who Wasn't There.

This is a tremendous challenge both to mood and exposition, and sound men Skip Lievsay and Craig Berkey could scarcely have brought it off more brilliantly: the rustle of the dry wind, the sound of bullets piercing glass, the scrape of a briefcase along an air shaft — these make up what may be the most remarkable soundtrack of the Coens» career.

Unlike most of Clooney's outings as a director, which bear the discernible influence of his friend and frequent collaborator Steven Soderbergh, Leatherheads is Clooney's clear attempt to make a Coens - style comedy.

Though the movie is the most explicitly «noir» of all the Coens» pictures, its look more closely resembles that of science fiction movies of the 1950s — a fact that makes its peculiar UFO subplot a touch less incongruous.

Such abrasive criticism would probably demoralize most filmmakers, but the Coens appear fairly indifferent to the critical reception that their films receive.

It would certainly have been tough to find room for the wondrous Oscar Isaac in a leading actor field more crowded than most, and though the Coens are perpetual competitors for best director (by Oscar's standards or anyone else's), who would we bump this year?

Like most of the Coens» work, there are brilliant moments of black humour, though, like Chigurh, these could become harrowingly violent at any moment.

Most of the naysayers here seem to reject the coens without trying to understand those who do find something in it or what is it they do find.

The adult years prove even less helpful as the Coens opt to leave most of Louis» thoughts unspoken.

ome directors — most, really — define themselves in their visuals, and while the movies of Joel and Ethan Coen deliver plenty of eye candy, courtesy of their brilliant choices in cinematography (Roger Deakins, holler), the Coens have, well, something else on their minds.

Unforgettable characters, heavy - dialogued script, palpable, haunting atmosphere and a rather unique visual style — all the ingredients are here in abundance, and Coens make the most of them with the genius assistance of the highly talented John Turturro and John Goodman.

The Coens don't offer that comforting sense of cosmic justice or thematic completeness that most crime movies provide, even those films about chaotic situations where the violence spills out of the confines of the protagonists.

The soundtrack is also the fourth collaboration between the Coens and producer T Bone Burnett, the most successful of which was O Brother, Where Art Thou?

And Carter Burwell delivers a score that, while not the best he would write for the Coens — that would wait for one more film — remains his most wildly inventive, a giddy mishmash of banjo, organ, whistling, and yodeling that plays like the mutant offspring of Marvin Hamlisch and Ennio Morricone.

• In Gabriel Byrne's Tom Reagan, the Coens offered their most conventional leading man (smart, handsome) to date, and arguably since.

I've never responded to Fargo quite as ecstatically as I do to Miller's Crossing, but it's a tremendous film, arguably the most impeccably balanced of the Coens» career.

• It's an irony worthy of such master ironists as the Coens that their fifth film, The Hudsucker Proxy, was intended to be their most mainstream and commercial to date.

The most genre - bending of all the Coens» films, Barton Fink is also a form of extended inside joke: an art film that makes merciless fun of the pretensions of art films.

But arguably the most cunning reference of all is right there in the title, which conjures J.J. Hunsecker, the newspaper columnist played by Burt Lancaster in The Sweet Smell of Success — a film co-written by none other than Clifford Odets, whose fictional doppleganger the Coens tormented with such glee in Barton Fink.

• The Coens have never lacked for confidence, but this was their most confident film to date, a blending of humor and drama that at the time felt daring but in retrospect seems almost obvious.

A Serious Man is the Coens» most autobiographical film to date, and their most emphatically, if not always flatteringly, Jewish.

√ Worst, or at least, given the talents involved, most disappointing: Nicholas Winding Refn's DOA erotic thriller «Neon Demon,» Terrence Malice's free - form «Knight of Cups» (more stream - of - consciousness drivel), the Coens» yuk - yuk sophomoric «Hail, Caesar!

But this is the Coens at their most dark, somber and moving: this 1960s - set downbeat odyssey is uncompromising and wise in its reflections on talent, success, disappointment and living life as an artist.

That's not to say the Coens» film is without its strengths: a good, if slightly familiar performance by Bridges; a nice, customarily modest turn by Damon, who may be the most versatile star working today; and, of course, the brothers» usual technical prowess.

This week, David Chen, Devindra Hardawar and Adam Quigley deliver their thoughts on two of this year's most critically acclaimed films, debate whether or not the Coens have ever done a «straight genre exercise» before, plus offer a crazy theory about the real meaning of Black Swan and speculate on where Aronofsky's career might be headed next.

But it's not a great one and, along with Intolerable Cruelty, it may be the most conventional and least Coens - y of the Coens» pictures.

For all of the references in their films, No Country and True Grit are the Coens» only adaptations of novels.1 Indeed, one of the most underappreciated aspects of their work is its literary quality.

But the real reason to see the film is the work of the Coens» regular collaborators, cinematographer Roger Deakins and composer Carter Burwell, who supply the visual and auditory landscapes that are True Grit's most notable achievement.

Known for some of the most creative and tight screenplays in contemporary film history, it's absolutely baffling to see the Coens deliver something with next to nothing at stake and zero involvement from a character perspective.

Hardly a lark, «Raising Arizona» is a story of loneliness, love, legacy and regret while remaining the Coens» most poignant, humane and hilarious work yet.

The Coens» reboot is a wholly original experience, and all the hallmarks you expect are there — Deakins» immaculate vistas, a panoply of perfectly pitched characters, and, most noticeably, a veritable thesaurus full of funny, flowery talk.

The film continues the Coens» work as secular theologians whose body of work one astute critic described as «the most sneakily moralistic in recent American cinema.»

Still, a few glimmers of the old Coens mojo shine through — most noticeably in the film's dark - comic highpoint, featuring Llewyn Davis himself, Oscar Isaac, as a suspicious fraud investigator.

The film went on to become one of the Coens» most financially successful films.

As played by an eloquently beleaguered Isaac, the man is arguably the most vivid and complex character the Coens have dreamed up since Marge Gunderson.

It would be an amazing irony if the Coens, who have been on the cutting edge for most of their career, become the safe harbor for artistic conservatism this time around.

Since their directorial debut in 1984 with the neo-noir thriller «Blood Simple,» the Coens have created some of the most enigmatic and enduring films of my generation.

The period setting is sketched in broad strokes (fittingly, the only real - life filmmaker name - checked here is Norman Taurog, director of Elvis vehicles and Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis movies), giving the Coens a chance to play with dated and outmoded film techniques: wipes, bird's - eye - view matte paintings, painted backdrops, unconvincing model submarines, and, in the movie's most perverse act of homage, a very long driving scene of questionable urgency.

The Coens meticulously select the most filmic moments of McCarthy's terse, gripping book; they trim the sheriff's nostalgic reveries and philosophising, embellish and enhance the action, and succeed overall in transforming the novel's economic descriptions into a full - blown world populated by vivid, plausible characters.

is the Coens at their most and least cynical.

With as many great movies as the Coens have made, surely «True Grit» is among their most broadly accessible without losing the dark edge and technique that makes them so terrific.

Though the most prominent and prolific in their appreciation of her talents, the Coens are not the only filmmakers to be aware of McDormand's power.

Perhaps the most disappointing aspect of the film is the nagging feeling that the Coens do indeed have something fascinating to say about the inner workings of Hollywood, but the flailing «Hail, Caesar!»