Barton Fink

Rating:
Summary: Bizarre trip through the world of Hollywood
Review: Barton Fink is a New York writer with on the cusp of real success when he receives a lucrative offer. After earning accolades for a play he wrote about New York City fishmongers, Hollywood offers him a load of money to head out to Los Angeles to write motion picture screenplays. Fink is slightly unsure he should engage in such a shameless grab for money, but he decides to go for it after his agent assures him that all great writers and artists work in Tinseltown. The idea of a talented artist selling his soul to the moneygrubbers involved in the film industry is an important theme of Joel and Ethan Coen's classic 1991 film "Barton Fink." The picture is notably weird even for the Coen brothers, who made "Raising Arizona," "Fargo," and "The Hudsucker Proxy," all strange films in their own right. "Barton Fink" beats those films by a mile with its bizarre premises. What is this movie about? Oh, nothing more than your typical guy goes to Hollywood to make good, finds himself living next to a mass murderer, gets writer's block, has run-ins with evil studio heads, meets his idol and a pretty girl, winds up facing a murder rap, and encounters the devil himself (maybe). Just your typical, everyday sort of predictable plot passed off on the sheep that go see movies today, right? Dead wrong. This movie is one of the most original films I have seen in years. I never tire of watching it.

When Barton arrives in Hollywood he immediately sets himself up in a sleazy hotel, thinking that the claustrophobic atmosphere of his room will inspire him in his work. Problems, horrible, dangerous problems that hint at dark forces haunt him from the moment he checks in. The clerk manning the front desk seems a bit odd, especially considering he emerges from a trap door in the floor to help Fink sign in. Then Barton's neighbor appears on the scene after the writer complains to the front desk about the noise next door. This neighbor, a salesman named Charlie Meadows, at first takes umbrage with Fink's complaints but eventually comes to befriend the nervous screenwriter. The two men spend a lot of time cooling their heels in Fink's room, discussing such diverse topics as the plight of the common man and the difficulties of selling products door to door. While Fink begins to think the world of this portly salesman, there seems to be a sinister personality lurking behind the smiling eyes of Charlie that is occasionally off putting. Eventually, that secret will come to light in the most hideous of ways.

Before Fink's life turns to mud, he meets another man who presents a host of problems: his literary hero W.P. Mayhew. Mayhew is a raging alcoholic trying to earn a living in Hollywood. Fink eventually learns an upsetting secret about this writer as well, a secret involving Mayhew's sultry assistant Audrey. Compounding Fink's difficulties is a brassy, smarmy Hollywood big shot who wants Fink to write a screenplay for a wrestling picture starring Noah Beery. Barton Fink might have survived these countless debacles if he didn't suddenly come down with the worst case of writer's block he has ever had. When inspiration does suddenly strike him, it has little to do with a wrestling picture and more to do with his current situation. The people he is under contract with do not understand Barton Fink's screenplay. They don't understand Barton Fink. And they promise that Barton Fink will never work in this town again or as a writer because the contract stipulates anything Fink writes belongs to the studio. Hollywood can be a very unforgiving town.

Everything works in "Barton Fink." The performances from John Turturro (Fink), John Goodman (Charlie Meadows), Steve Buscemi (the bellhop Chet), Judy Davis (Audrey), John Mahoney (Mayhew), and Michael Lerner (studio boss Jack Lipnick) all rate off the charts. A special salute should go to Tony Shaloub in the sleazy role of Ben Geisler, an overbearing jerk constantly deriding Fink's position with the studio. The hotel's bleak atmosphere, with its peeling wallpaper, dusty furniture, and canyon wide hallways instills a sense of malevolent dread to the entire proceedings. Who could produce a work of art in such a seedy situation? Barton Fink can when he finally decides to rely on his true abilities by rejecting the typical Hollywood pap. There are many theories about the underlying themes of this movie, most of them quite valid, but I felt that the idea of a young writer selling his soul for a buck and thus nosediving into failure was the central premise. Only when he writes about something he has enthusiasm for does he find a sort of redemption, and even then Hollywood is right there to quash his masterpiece. I suspect the Coen brothers went through a similar experience when they started out in the movie business, that Barton Fink represents to some extent the success and failure of these two filmmakers.

The DVD version of the movie is good, not great. The most intriguing extras on the disc are the deleted scenes. They don't add much to the movie, but they do provide a glimpse into how the film might have looked before the final edit. The scenes rely on alternating black and white and color cinematography, which makes for a confusing feel that was appropriately dropped in favor of an all color format. "Barton Fink" is a winner of a film that really isn't all that confusing after repeated viewings. A commentary track from the directors would have been nice, if for no other reason than to confirm what is in that blasted box!

Rating:
Summary: Did I miss the point?
Review: Ok. Before you read this, don't get me wrong. I liked this movie...a lot. It steps outside the conventions of hollywood. But I'm not exactly sure I understand the whole message. So here is what I got from the movie...decide for yourself:

Barton Fink, successful pretentious New York playwright is commissioned by a hollywood agency to create a screenplay for a low budget movie about wresteling. Fink reluctantly takes the job, despite his preconcieved notions of hollywood corrupting his values. This is the setup for the remainder of the plot (which I really don't want to go into, so if you want a plot outline, read another review). Suffice it to say that the plot line seems feasable -- even real -- but only up to a point.

Here's what I think the Coen's were trying to do (and no one else seems to get this...at least, not from any of the reviews I've read). The plot during the entire second half of the movie is completely implausable. It is almost at the precise time in the movie when the plot becomes implausable that Fink's ideas begin to flow, and his writers block is suddenly lifted. I believe that these implausable events in the movie WERE the events of Fink's screenplay.

This makes sense if you think about it. The events of the second half of the movie seem unreal...even surreal to a point. In fact, one could say that they are more similar to the plot of a B movie...the exact type of screenplay that Fink was commissioned to write. Fink's ideas began to flow almost immediately after these bizarre and twisted events began to occour. In other words, all of these strange events were all in Fink's mind. In fact, after all of it started to unfold, Fink simply sat down and started writing

Didn't anyone who saw this movie find it even remotely curious why Fink was never held responsible for his actions, or that he never tried to hide the evidence (the bloddy mattress, for one)? These events are precisely the type of cliched hackney pouring out of hollywood that Fink was trying to avoid, yet he became caught right in the middle of them.

You may find yourself wondering why, then, would Fink be writing about all these events, when they have nothing to do with wresteling. If you think about it, though, these strange events revolved around Charlie Meadows. The fact that Charlie used to be a wrestler ties the entire thing together.

At the end of it all, we are still inside the writer's mind. We are stuck "inside the painting" -- in Fink's own personal hell.

Even if this isn't what the Coen's were trying to accomplish, I still think that this movie surpassed all my expectations. This is a very well crafted piece of cinema.

Rating:
Summary: So hot...
Review: The Coens, eh? This is one of their best. I feel that over the years since "Blood Simple", the brothers have been leaning towards a far more main stream sensability. "Fargo" is where they were going, but "Barton Fink" is most definately where they've been. It's all peaks and troughs with these guys nowadays. I really didn't care much for "Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?", and "Intolerable Cruelty" was just below them. When they were still young, excited and exciting, they just couldn't go wrong in my eyes, and this little number has to be one of my favourites from those bygone days.
The whole film is certainly very srange, but not so much as to encumber it's rather magnetic style. It has the same quiet self-possessed quality that all the really great films of the last century have, but it's pervaded by that inimitable, colourful Coen flare. The hotel in which Turturro's character ,Barton Fink, is staying is a big player in itself, with "Citezen Kane" style lighting, wallpaper that peels from the wall because of the intense Hollywood heat, and a wonderfully strange cameo from Steve "Mr. Pink" Buscemi. The outstanding performance for me though lies with John Goodman. Who would have thought that Roseanne's screen husband could have rocketed to such stellar heights of thespian ability from those humble shitcom beginnings? Playing the travelling insurance salesman who turns out to be the devil himself (a common theme in the early Coen ouevre), Goodman utters one of my favourite lines of all time: "Sometimes it gets so hot, I just wanna crawl outta my skin." There's just something fantastically wierd and intriguing about the way he delivers the line, and this and other little nuggets of script writing mastery peppered throughout the film, are able testament to the brothers' ability to get the best from their cast.
This movie panders to no-one. Even the end doesn't 'deliver' in the usual way, but it does look and feel exactly like the end of "La Dolce Vita", which is no small task in itself. One of my favourite Coen films, this is not one for the lazy.

Rating:
Summary: Could the Coens make a bad movie?
Review: Barton Fink is a smart, well-written, and even reality-based movie that will keep your attention for the entire 116 minutes. If you liked John Goodman in "The Big Lebowski," then you'll love him in this movie. He's a bit calmer, but delivers an amazing performance. As does John Turturro, who is the main character, Barton Fink. Turturro gives one of his best performances to date as a semi-neurotic writer unable to handle the Hollywood lifestyle. Turturro's studio boss in LA is played by Michael Lerner, who gives an excellent performance as a very dramatic performance as the self-centered, arrogent boss. The Coens use a whited sepulchure type of juxtaposition with the dreary hotel room in sunny LA. And as usual, the Coens give us a few unexpected twists and yet another unpredictable ending.

Rating:
Summary: GO WEST, YOUNG MAN...
Review: Welcome to the wonderfully wacky world of the Coen brothers. Joel and Ethan Coen are two of the most brilliant filmmakers in America today. Every film they turn out is a cinematic gem, and "Barton Fink" is no exception.

The film centers around a slightly pompous, idealistic, left wing playwright, Barton Fink (John Turturro), who in 1941, after becoming the toast of Broadway as the pretentious voice of the common man, goes west to Hollywood at the invitation of a major studio in order to try his hand at writing screenplays.

There, he meets studio head, Jack Lipnick (Michael Lerner), and his yes man and whipping boy, Lou Breeze (Jon Polito). Asked to write a screenplay for a Wallace Beery vehicle about wrestling, a subject about which the bookish Fink knows nothing about, causes Fink to go into a professional tailspin.

Ensconced in a decaying old hotel, seemingly run by its slightly creepy and unctuous bell hop, Chet (Steve Buscemi), who bizarrely appears on the scene out of a trapdoor behind the hotel's front desk, Fink begins his ordeal . The elevator is run by a cadaverous, pock marked, elderly man. The corridors of the hotel seem endless. The wallpaper in Fink's room is peeling away from the wall, leaving a viscous, damp ooze in its wake. His bed creaks and groans with a life of its own. It is also hot, oppressively hot.

No residents of the hotel are apparent, except for the appearance of shoes outside the doors in expectation of the free shoe shine the hotel offers its denizens and for the noise made by his neighbors. Finks meets one of his neighbors, the portly Charlie Meadows (John Goodman), a gregarious Everyman, possessed of an abundance of bonhomie. A self-styled insurance salesman, Charlie cajoles Fink out of his shell, befriending him in the process. Little does Fink know that beneath Charlie's congenial exterior lies a horrific secret that will spillover onto him in the not so distant future.

At a luncheon with studio under boss, Ben Geisler (Tony Shalhoub), Fink meets a famous writer that he reveres, W. P. Mayhew (John Mahoney), a southern sot so steeped in drink that his companion/secretary, Audrey Taylor (Judy Davis), has to do his writing for him. Fink falls for Audrey but finds his overtures rebuffed. Still, she is willing to try and help him overcome his profound writer's block. In a classic Coen twist, it is this single act of kindness that acts as the catalyst for the nightmare that makes Fink's life become a living hell on earth. He goes from living a life of self-imposed isolation and angst to one that appears to have been created by a Hollywood hack, filled as it is with the most incredible situations, a real studio head's dream.

John Turturro is terrific as the introverted, tightly wound, pretentious, and neurotic Fink, who in Hollywood, away from the womb of the Great White Way, is like a lamb led to the slaughter. With his sculpted afro, horn rimmed glasses, nerdy clothes, Fink is the stereotypic Hollywood notion of the commie writer. John Turturro makes the role his with a purposeful intensity.

John Goodman is sensational as the garrulous Charlie Meadow, the epitome of the working class man about whom Fink likes to write. Unfortunately, all is not as it seems, as Charlie has a dark side to him, a very dark side. John Mahoney is excellent as the Faulknerian-like writer, and Judy Davis outdoes herself, as the self-sacrificing Audrey Taylor.

Michael Lerner will razzle-dazzle the viewer with his over the top portrayal of a fast talking studio head who is willing to pay big bucks for the cache of having a top Broadway playwright turn out screenplay swill for the masses. Jon Polito is very good as the Uriah Heepish, quintessential yes man he portrays. Tony Shalhoub is excellent in his role, underscoring the absurdity of the old Hollywood studio system.

Steve Buscemi, looking surprisingly small in his bell hop uniform, resembles an organ grinder's monkey, at times. The viewer may also expect him to bellow, "Call for Phillip Morris", as in the old cigarette campaign, though he speaks in a controlled, respectful monotone, at all times. Still, his very presence adds a slightly sinister quality to the film, though he does nothing remotely sinister, other than the way he makes his screen appearance. His entrance onto the screen in this fashion foreshadows what is to come.

This film is not for everyone, as it does not have a neatly wrapped ending. Instead, it goes beyond the standard expected ending into an absurdist foray. Still, those who love films by the Coen Brothers will not be disappointed by this satiric look at Hollywood. It is little wonder that this film became the darling of the Cannes Film Festival.

Rating:
Summary: Number 1 overrated movie of all time.
Review: Hey, the acting is good. And thats about the only positive mentionable in this entire 'movie'. What good is acting without plot, without a cohesive story, with endless scenes that culminate in...nothing. This is one of those rare movies judged not on itself but on its makers, and therefore has not been judged objectively but with the extreme bias of the typical wanna-be. "I wanna-be in Hollywood, so I will praise a movie that laughs at Hollywood".

Nary an interesting character in sight. A dull plot about writers block, I wish the Coen brothers had writers block when scripting this mess. Or maybe they did, and this was just the first thing that came to mind. One reviewer said "it was a little slow in spots". More accurately, "it was a little quick in spots", and the remaining 2 hours were slow. And France loves it...

If you want to see a good film about screenwriting, watch "Adaptation". If you want to see a good Coen movie, watch "Fargo". If you want to say "huh?" a lot in between napping, watch "Barton Fink".

Rating:
Summary: You're just a tourist with a typwriter. I Live Here!
Review: "Why me, Charlie?" "Because YOU DON'T LISTEN!"

And with that, Barton Fink learns from Madman Mundt what he never would from Charlie Meadows. Barton, a Clifford Odets-like 1930's-style socialist playwright come to Hollywood to write a screenplay for a Wallace Beery wrestling picture, has his pretense of condescending social conscience blown all to hell and gone by his experiences in Hotel Hell, somewhere in Hollywood.

Barton believes he writes from inner pain, and this pain transcends and transforms his work to echo the existential pain of the "common man". Barton believes he is one with and the voice of "the people"; that his understanding of the struggling masses is exceptional and he is their champion. The problem is, Barton doesn't know Jack Cheese about the common man and "he doesn't listen". He patronizes Charlie, the only "common man" he knows, and he is pompous and self-deluded; but, his experience in Hollywood, the "land of make-believe" is ironically going to introduce Barton to the real world in ways unforgettable to him and to we the viewers.

Possibly one of the lesser accessible of the Coen films, I think Barton Fink is one of their finest. There are clever observations of the time and place, with terrific,wry bits by the supporting players as the Hollywood mogul and the producers and Yes-men around him, not to mention John Mahoney as a William Faulkner-type alcoholic Southern novelist turned hack screenwriter, and Judy Davis as his long-suffering mistress/assistant.

But the show belongs to John Turturro as Barton, and John Goodman, absolutely perfect as Charlie. Turturro gets just the right note of crackpot sincerity, all the while conveying the angst and delirium of the worst case of writer's block ever depicted on film. His Barton Fink believes his own BS, and when he finally realizes what a "life of the mind" really means, his total shock and disorientation is that of one whose last bit of self-importance and self-delusion has been stripped bare. John Goodman's Charlie is simply stunning. He hits every note right on the nose as he reveals the complexity underlying this seemingly simple and superficial man. Absolutely wonderful.

I have read where some are put off by the left turn this film takes midway. I couldn't disagree more. What had been an arch, wry, satiric riff on old Hollywood, writer's travails, moguls etc., that would have been amusing and clever and little more, suddenly descends in a mad plunge into something else altogether. I think that roller-coaster dive into madness & mayhem that hurls Barton into a figurative and literal Hell on Earth is what changes Barton Fink from a trifle to something indelible and unforgettable. God Help Us when "things get balled up at the Head Office".

As in all Coen movies the devil is in the details, and their attention to detail here is, as is usual with them, superb. The peeling wallpaper, the ooze and drip of the glue, the sleepless torment of Barton's writer's block, the sharp Studio pros, the cryptic cops, and, finally, the absolutely tangible heat. With wonderful sound and camera work, the movie has its own destinctive look and atmosphere.

Not for everyone, certainly, I find Barton Fink an exceptional film, worth viewing many times. Five stars for Coen fans, and those that love films that are defiantly their own worlds.

Rating:
Summary: Great follow-up to Miller's Crossing
Review: Miller's Crossing made me think that the Coens may be the greatest active moviemakers America had to offer. Barton Fink did a lot to confirm that. It's beautiful to look at, and fun to watch, with outstanding performances from the entire cast. John Turturro and John Goodman are both amazing in this. The dialogue is fantastic, although not as wonderfully lyrical as in Miller's Crossing.

As with Miller's Crossing, I was hoping for an all-out, deluxe, special edition once this came to DVD. While the extras are nice, I wanted more. Still, the movie looks great, and it's wonderful to finally own it in widescreen.

Rating:
Summary: Another Coen Brothers Classic!!!
Review: I recently purchased "Barton Fink" along with "Miller's Crossinhg", another Coen Brothers gem.

Barton Fink quite simply is a writer who cannot see the forest for the trees. He is so taken with the fact that he is a writer that he can't write. He is so idealistic that he misses fantastic opportunities to become a writer for the ages because he wastes precious time proeselytizing. John Goodman perfectly sums up eveyone's frustration with Barton Fink when after a series of unfortunate occurrences, Barton asks him "Why me?" to which John's character answers "Because you don't LISTEN!"

Set in 1930s Hollywood we follow the exploits of a one-hit wonder, Barton Fink, who has written a successful Broadway play and is summoned by the powers that be in Hollywood. After much cajoling to take the job from his agent, Barton arrives in Los Angeles determined to become the writer for the common man where he insists true stories live. The trouble with Barton, however, is he does not have time for the common man because he has so romanticised their lot as well as his particular quest in speaking for them.

Excellent performances from John Turturo, John Goodman, Judy Davis, John Polito (often overlooked, but his scenes ALWAYS become his!!) and the inimitable Tony Shalub.

I have decided after a slew of Coen Brothers films I currenlty have in my collection, that any project these guys are involved with deserve more than passing scrutiny.

Rating:
Summary: The life of the mind.
Review: *Barton Fink* remains the Coen Brothers' most unapproachable movie for the casual viewer. The subject matter isn't designed to pack 'em in the multiplex: it's about an Odettsian playwright named Barton Fink (John Turturro, in his star-making role), who, fresh from a pretentious triumph in New York, is invited to go west to Hollywood and make some easy money by writing schlocky screenplays. His immediate assignment is the scripting of a wresting picture for Wallace Beery. Barton, fresh from his heroic left-wing fishmongers on the New York stage, gets instantly shut down by writer's block. His environs don't help matters. Once arrived in L.A., he's put up in the dismal Hotel Earle, the set design of which has a forceful personality all its own: the wallpaper in Barton's room keeps peeling off in the heat, oozing viscous glue; the low-lit corridors are extravagantly long, as if they're an illusion created by mirrors (and, of course, they are); the air in the lobby is speckled with dust motes. We never see any activity in the hotel, apart from the Stygian elevator operator and the desk clerk (Steve Buscemi as "Chet!"), who we meet as he emerges from the basement under the lobby, doing god-knows what. The only other person we meet in the hotel is Barton's next-door neighbor, Charlie (John Goodman in his greatest role). Charlie somewhat shores up our freaked-out hero with a good dose of neighborly normalcy ("Howya doing, friend?", and so on), but don't expect this to last: everything in the world of *Barton Fink* is, or turns out to be, rather horribly awry. The Coens rightly employ a hyper-realism to delineate their tale, in much the same way that Wilder used it for his *Sunset Boulevard*. Hollywood, the Dream Factory, is best served by exaggeration and an overall sense of insanity whenever it's the subject of a movie. I suppose the movie is ultimately about the degradation of selling out, or of just selling, period. (It's no accident that Goodman's Charlie is a traveling salesman.) But the Coens understand that Hollywood is not the only place where artistic souls go to die: the "successful" Barton is an insufferable, pretentious twit who had already sold himself out to the idealistic cause of writing drama for the nonexistent "Common Man". Another character in the film, a Faulknerian writer, has had his secretary and mistress "help out" with the writing of his recent novels long before he was assigned to write screenplays for B-pictures. The movie is too profound to be just another anti-Hollywood screed. It's more about an artist's relationship to his craft, and the age-old conflict between smelly, bourgeois money and the aesthetic "ideal": can the latter exist without the former? Who knows, but the cinephile will love the aesthetic pleasures abundantly on display in *Barton Fink*. It's all the more miraculous when one considers that the screenplay for this movie was conceived and written during a period of, you guessed it, writer's block: the filmmakers had been stumped by their own Byzantine plotting of the preceding *Miller's Crossing*, and, taking a break from that, came up with this -- a movie about writer's block. Call it a gift from the Divine Muse. [DVD note: If you've never seen the movie before, do NOT -- I repeat, do NOT -- watch the MENU on the DVD as it's bringing up the menu options. Some [individual] over at Fox thought it'd be a funny idea to put a BIG-TIME SPOILER in a place where it would be impossible to avoid. Put this disc in, CLOSE YOUR EYES, and wait for the menu music to start repeating itself -- then open your peepers and press "play". Needless to say, one shouldn't have to be giving such advice, but the Coen Brothers continue to be treated shabbily on DVD.]