Great accents can
take a production far. That was one of my biggest takeaways from Fargo,
along with the gratitude that I don't live in a place where I have to worry too
much about snow.
Fargo would be much less than it is
if not for its charm, whether it arises from Frances McDormand’s “oh jeez”
Minnesotan innocence or the pure incompetence of William H. Macy's wannabe
criminal mastermind character. Even the two kidnappers, played by Steve Buscemi
and Peter Stormare, have a certain bumbling appeal to them, even when they
commit extreme acts of violence and cruelty. You know who they reminded me of?
The Wet Bandits, if the Home Alone criminals were a little toned down
and a little more vicious and capable.
Fargo was the recipient of two
Oscar’s (Best Actor for McDormand and Best Screenplay for the Coen brothers)
and was nominated for several more. I was therefore expecting something…
bigger, in a way. But the smallness is what makes it a great movie. As the tagine
says, it is a homespun murder mystery, and it’s one that feels real (the win
for best screenplay is well deserved) and funny and charming all at the same
time. Great movie.
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