As usual with the Coen brothers, the reviews are all over the place - from "I hated it" to "It's a work of genius". (I happen to subscribe to the latter). And, as usual with them, the interpretations are all over the place, though many reviewers seem to focus on the Coens' view of life as nasty, brutish and short.
But because the Coens are able to weave so many meanings into their films, I think I ought to point out a thread that I've not seen anyone discuss. Specifically, one could make the argument that every single awful thing that befalls Larry Gopnik - with exception of the final irrevocable disasters - could have been prevented. Go right down the line: giving an "F" to a student because he understood only the stories and not the math (like Einstein...); watching a neighbor take more and more of his yard from him; a son and daughter living in another world from him; a brother who refuses to move out of the house; a wife who leaves him for a "serious man" - in all of these trials and tribulations, Larry Gopnik could've taken control. Taken in this light, the opening Yiddish folk tale can easily be interpreted as showing the correct way to deal with evil: stab it in the heart, push it out of the house and then get on with life.
What then to say about the two final - and irrevocable - verdicts, one for Larry and one for his son? While they work as typical Coen over-the-top finales, they also represent what Anton Chigurh represented in "No country...": the occasional, truly arbitrary, visitation of evil or death.
But because the Coens are able to weave so many meanings into their films, I think I ought to point out a thread that I've not seen anyone discuss. Specifically, one could make the argument that every single awful thing that befalls Larry Gopnik - with exception of the final irrevocable disasters - could have been prevented. Go right down the line: giving an "F" to a student because he understood only the stories and not the math (like Einstein...); watching a neighbor take more and more of his yard from him; a son and daughter living in another world from him; a brother who refuses to move out of the house; a wife who leaves him for a "serious man" - in all of these trials and tribulations, Larry Gopnik could've taken control. Taken in this light, the opening Yiddish folk tale can easily be interpreted as showing the correct way to deal with evil: stab it in the heart, push it out of the house and then get on with life.
What then to say about the two final - and irrevocable - verdicts, one for Larry and one for his son? While they work as typical Coen over-the-top finales, they also represent what Anton Chigurh represented in "No country...": the occasional, truly arbitrary, visitation of evil or death.