BLOOD SIMPLE (1984)

There are few things certain in life. No matter how watertight the scheme or how foolproof the system is, the world can turn on its axis in an instant, tearing all the best-laid plans asunder. In Texas especially, chaos reigns. In the vast expanse of the Lone Star State, it doesn’t matter if you’re the President of the United States or the Pope of Rome—something can always go wrong.

And it all goes wrong in the Coen Brothers’ sensational cinema debut, Blood Simple. When bar owner Julian Marty (Dan Hedaya) discovers that his wife, Abby (Frances McDormand), is having an affair with his employee Ray (John Getz), he hires Loren Visser (M. Emmet Walsh), a private detective, to murder them both. Unfortunately, Visser has plans of his own, setting off a chain reaction that soon falls outside anyone’s control…

With a meagre budget of only $1.5M, Blood Simple is one of the best independent films of all time. Moreover, it was an exceptionally promising calling card. If there was ever a directorial debut that communicated precisely what a filmmaker would create for the rest of their career, Blood Simple would be that film. Directed by Joel Coen and produced by his younger brother, Ethan, the duo achieved the dark story and black humour that would characterise their work for years to come.

This can first be seen in how they weave tragic misunderstandings seamlessly into their narrative, something that would soon become a staple of their work. Through their incredible writing, which is both realistic and heavily stylised, we watch as characters jump to conclusions and suffer dire consequences. As a quintessential Coen flick, it also serves as the beginning of an unofficial trilogy in their filmography: Blood Simple, Fargo (1996), and No Country for Old Men (2007) each possess a dark philosophical undercurrent that ensures they are riveting viewing again and again.

The ideas behind the Coen Brothers’ work have often been the central attraction. While the entertaining performances and darkly humorous scripts serve as a fantastic surface layer, a broad range of thematic concerns have kept their films intriguing for close to forty years. Chief among these interests is the cosmic workings of fate, of arbitrary forces in the universe denying the human desire for free will. Or, at least, ridiculing our human propensity to make plans; through their intelligent plots, they have often demonstrated that there’s no such thing as true causative action.

That’s because, in the Coen Brothers’ world of mischief and mayhem, as soon as you take your foot to step out of everyday life’s numbing tedium, things get out of hand in ways you could never have predicted. This is Blood Simple’s central thesis, which is revealed to us in the opening monologue. As Visser expounds upon life in Texas, he states: “Nothing comes with a guarantee.” No plan worth making is ever likely to happen.

Additionally, when things inevitably blow up in your face, few will sympathise or even stop to help: “Down here… you’re on your own.” We watch as hapless souls plunge towards disaster, attempting to mitigate the forces of entropy that threaten to engulf them. Tellingly, they try and do everything on their own, because there is a heady air of distrust between even the most intimate of characters.

The reason why plans fail is not just due to random, uncontrollable forces of the cosmos, but due to shortcomings in human behaviour. A plan requires people—and people can’t always be trusted. The reasons why are too many to list: one man could betray his partner out of anger, jealousy, or for the money. Therefore, to ensure a plan goes swimmingly, it requires a fundamental trust, one that won’t be so easily eroded when the plan inexorably goes sideways.

Of course, trust is the one thing that criminals tend to lack. It’s the prisoner’s dilemma writ large; when the going gets tough, would you stab your partner in the back? Or would you wait and hope that he doesn’t plunge a dagger between your shoulder blades? It’s for this reason that Visser is hesitant to take the job Marty offers him: “Trust you not to go simple on me and do something stupid. I mean, really stupid. Now, why should I trust you?”

The symbolism highlights these themes wonderfully. Visser’s lighter and Abby’s gun both become motifs, the former representing the uncontrollable nature of any one plan’s infinitesimal details. The latter illustrates the position chance occurrence has in any scheme: how many bullets are in that revolver’s chamber?

The furnace at the back of Marty’s restaurant, incessantly burning, feels like an emblem of the indiscriminate, all-consuming forces of entropy at work: it can’t be controlled—it simply does. Concerning trust, Marty is the first to suffer for his woeful abundance of hubris, his inability to predict that he may be getting the short end of the stick. This is symbolised in the dead fish that lie on his desk: they were gullible enough to take the bait, becoming ensnared in the process.

This is aided by shrewdly written characters that are sublimely played by everyone involved. No one is lacking or exaggerated; there is an authentic aspect to their behaviours. This is perhaps best seen in M. Emmet Walsh’s performance as Loren Visser. He’s one of cinema’s more underrated villains, in my opinion: uncommonly relaxed in dangerous situations, focused and unfettered by emotions or ethical concerns, he’s a charming psychopath. Utterly unscrupulous, he’s framed as a reptilian killer by the Coen Brothers; in several shots, a fly lands on the cold sweat of his brow. Never once does he flinch.

Blood Simple is also noteworthy for being Frances McDormand’s film debut. It’s always nice revisiting how cinematic legends got their start. Unsurprisingly, a hint of her future greatness is evident in each frame she inhabits. As Abby, she excels. Much like Marta Cabrera (Ana de Armas) in Knives Out (2019), she wins the game because she’s the only one not playing. By being ignorant of the plots and schemes of those around her, and through having a good heart, she narrowly triumphs over those who seek to destroy her.

Her lover, Ray (adroitly depicted by John Getz), is an inefficient operator. It’s not that he’s stupid—it’s that he’s frightened. In his panicked state, he makes moves that aren’t strategically thought out, resulting in nail-biting sequences of tension. Considering his combat experience, it would appear as though he’s not all that intelligent. However, his febrile, illogical thinking mirrors the film’s title: Blood Simple.

The meaning of the title comes from an expression in Dashiell Hammett’s much-imitated novel Red Harvest (1929). The book has been surreptitiously adapted many times, in Akira Kurosawa’s Yojimbo (1961), Sergio Leone’s A Fistful of Dollars (1964), and the Coen Brothers even had a stab at the story too, in their fantastic Miller’s Crossing (1990).

Before they adapted the whole novel, they borrowed a phrase from Hammett’s story, being “blood simple.” This expression is used to evoke the confused, disorientated thinking patterns of fearful people after having been exposed to graphic violence for an extended period. Unfortunately for Ray, he becomes a little blood-simple. A series of unsound decisions leads him to some pretty dark places, with Getz’s performance being utterly convincing during every step.

Finally, there’s Dan Hedaya’s terrifying turn as Julian Marty, the furious and embittered husband. Hedaya takes up the space of every scene he’s in, even becoming more frightening than the contract killer that sits in his office. He informs Visser that the Greeks used to cut off the heads of those who delivered bad news. When Visser remarks that it doesn’t make sense, Marty elucidates: “No… but it made them feel better.” He’s all rage, consumed by emotion, and people are going to get hurt because of it.

Due to the thematic depth of the Coens’ script, in addition to the superb characterisation and stunning performances, the plot never once feels prosaic. With the many turns it takes, you’re never entirely sure where it’s going to end up, even in the final two minutes. It reveals how the Coen Brothers seldom write a boring script: there’s nothing formulaic about their formula. They were always breaking the mould, including their own.

All of this reveals the greatness of the Coen Brothers’ cinema. But what impresses me most about this film is the style: with next to no funding, Blood Simple feels like a high-budget thriller. Certainly, it’s better than most thrillers I’ve seen. The pacing is exquisite, with the early parts of the story hurtling forward at breakneck speed, up until it becomes nail-bitingly tense in slower sequences.

The winding story, which the characters try to understand by moving backwards, brings everyone into conflict with each other, meaning no one is ever safe. Ray attempts to put the puzzle together, but the pieces are upside down, and time is running out: he’s being followed, probably by someone who wants to kill him.

Furthermore, there’s an understated beauty in Blood Simple. A man, dying in a ditch, raises his pistol as one final protest. As his murderer stands over him, he waits for him to take the shot, perhaps allowing chance to have its say. But when the pistol fails to fire, the man surrenders it to his killer, acquiescent and resigned.

This sublimely grim aspect of the Coen Brothers’ writing never once becomes one-note, due to the simple fact that their morbid humour always provides the viewer with a grander sense of perspective. An unwilling killer doesn’t leave a crime scene, but remains by the recently buried victim, smoking cigarettes until morning with a vacant look in his eyes. Meanwhile, a determined murderer has a knife thrust into his hand for becoming overzealous. Each shot becomes oddly amusing, in a way that only the Coen Brothers can do.

Perhaps one of the most obvious stylistic differences between their debut and their later work is the music. In Blood Simple, the superlative piano score maintains tension beautifully. It could be said to have inspired films such as The Game (1995) and Eyes Wide Shut (1999), both of which heavily rely on an unnerving piano score to disturb the viewer. However, it’s noticeably absent from the likes of No Country for Old Men, which is starkly lacking any score, or music of any kind.

The dialogue which the Coen Brothers brought to the screen for the majority of their career is unique. It’s both dramatic and unexaggerated. Moreover, it’s always to the point, yet it remains wonderfully enigmatic and mysterious. It draws you in, forcing you to ask: “Just what is he talking about? And more importantly, what’s going to happen next?”

There’s a slew of funny lines that made the cinematic duo famous for their wit. When Visser sees Marty’s broken finger, he provokes him by asking: “Stick your finger up the wrong person’s ass?” There’s also a terse wisdom and Southern charm to their dialogue, much like Terrence Malick did before them in his debut Badlands (1973), and his follow-up Days of Heaven (1978). They never sermonise. Instead, they subtly describe what this whole darn human comedy is all about. From the very beginning, it’s apparent their writing style was a magical fit for adapting Cormac McCarthy’s novels.

In watching Blood Simple, one gets a strong sense of the films that inspired them. This debut feature is a bit like if you crossed Chinatown (1974) with Dial M for Murder (1954), and then relocated the product to Texas. Additionally, the dialogue between Abby and Ray in the car during the opening sequence has shades of The Conversation (1974). A ghostly apparition seems to be straight out of Nagisa Oshima’s Empire of Passion (1978), while Visser’s long walk down a hallway is reminiscent of Melanie’s ominous ascent up a staircase in The Birds (1963).

Needless to say, the boys had done their homework. They knew from the very beginning how to make a great film. Consequently, Blood Simple is, in my opinion, one of the greatest American indie flicks ever made. It’s surprising then that both Joel and Ethan Coen have since claimed that this film is their least favourite from their oeuvre, as well as the film they consider to be their worst creative effort.

I was amazed to hear that, especially considering that I think it’s one of their better films. Certainly, it’s better than their final work together, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs (2018), and it’s also a clear pick over the likes of The Hudsucker Proxy (1994), Intolerable Cruelty (2003), and The Lady Killers (2004).

Perhaps I’m just biased: I love films like this—intense, yet unspoken contemplation on weighty themes in a riveting thriller. I also adore this style of stripped-down filmmaking, relying on the bare essentials of storytelling: characters and their disparate, conflicting motivations. Anarchy ensues as everyone tries to come out on top, with each trying to predict the next moves of three people.

And as the house of cards comes crumbling down, we watch as each tries to get out from underneath the falling rubble. Blood Simple may not be the best film from the Coen Brothers, but it’s still an excellent one, and one of the best cinematic debuts ever.

USA | 1984 | 96 MINUTES | 1.85:1 | COLOUR | ENGLISH • SPANISH

Cast & Crew

director: Joel Coen.
writers: Joel Coen & Ethan Coen.
starring: John Getz, Frances McDormand, Dan Hedaya, Samm-Art Williams & M. Emmet Walsh.