5
Viewers, like you, who chart the course
of our destined chaos. It starts with
Washington mumbling to the camera.
The best actor of the century so far
mailing it in. And, for her part,
McDormand is nothing more than
a rotten somnambulant harridan.
Not even Corey Hawkins, a highlight
of this year’s In the Heights, nor Harry Melling
from Harry Potter, can carry these bumblers
who fail to be the characters who fail
to be as great as they see themselves. But
Hail! Stephen Root the court-jestering porter.
He’s got the keys to the gates of Hell.
6
And Alex Hassell as the creepy Ross
like an ancestor of Anton Chigurh
keeps his shit metaphysical, concise,
necessary, skintight, form-fitting.
Cormac McCarthy’s No Country for Old Men.
You know the story. Even if you haven’t
picked it up since high school. You know exactly
how the stars will cross. Even if you can’t
quite believe how ill-conceived, how violent,
can’t figure a purpose to the cruel
insatiably nihilistic plotting?
What’s the point? A little money?
Why watch the inevitable dots connect?
Is there any future possibly worth winning?
