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We got but four days to get to that treasure. Well, it didn't look like a one-horse town, but try finding a decent hair jelly.Īnd no transmission belt for two weeks, either.
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Whoa, whoa, Pete, now we've only got to speak with one voice here! Careful with that fire now, boys! You lousy, low-down, yellow-bellied goat! Hold up, boys! Ain't you ever heard of negotiating?! Bet we could talk this thing out! I hate fire! You boys is leaving us no choice but to smoke you out! ĭamn his eyes! Pa always said, "Never trust a Hogwallop!" COME AND GET US, COPPERS!!! I'm gonna kill you! Judas Iscariot Hogwallop! You miserable, horse-eating son of a. Sorry, Pete! I know we're kin, but they got this depression on, and I got to do for me and mine! What the hell are you saying?! Wash is kin! Pete's cousin turned us in for the bounty! Just come on out and grabbin' air! And don't try nothing fancy! Your situation is pretty nigh hopeless! It's the authorities! We've got you surrounded! And just to prove that the brothers haven't lost their knack for bad-taste humor, we get a Ku Klux Klan rally choreographed like a cross between a Nuremberg rally and a Busby Berkeley musical. O Brother (the title's lifted from Preston Sturges's classic 1941 comedy Sullivan's Travels) is furthermore graced with glowing, burnished photography from Roger Deakins and a masterly soundtrack from T-Bone Burnett that pays loving homage to American '30s folk styles-blues, gospel, bluegrass, jazz, and more. Into this, their most relaxed film yet, the Coens have tossed a beguiling ragbag of inconsequential situations, a wealth of looping, left-field dialogue, and a whole stash of gags both verbal and visual. En route they come up against a prophetic blind man on a railroad truck, a burly, one-eyed baddie (the ever-magnificent John Goodman), a trio of sexy singing ladies, a blues guitarist who's sold his soul to the devil, a brace of crooked politicos on the stump, a manic-depressive bank robber, and-well, you get the idea. Our wandering hero in this case is one Ulysses Everett McGill, a slick-tongued wise guy with a thing about hair pomade (George Clooney, blithely sending up his own dapper image) who talks his chain-gang buddies (Coen-movie regular John Turturro and newcomer Tim Blake Nelson) into lighting out after some buried loot he claims to know of. Only Joel and Ethan Coen, the fraternal director and producer team behind art-house hits such as The Big Lebowski and Fargo and masters of quirky and ultra-stylish genre subversion, would dare nick the plot line of Homer's Odyssey for a comic picaresque saga about three cons on the run in 1930s Mississippi.