No Country for Old Men is a violent poem and wayward adult fairytale that held me in its grip from start to finish. My heart never stopped racing, even in the film’s more quiet moments. When it ended—yes, that ending that has confounded some—chills washed over me. I couldn’t move or speak. I wanted to be comforted (or to help comfort) Tommy Lee Jones’s solemn and reflective sheriff. To have him protect me from the big bad wolf who stalked my nightmares.
The wolf—fully embodied by Javier Bardem’s Chigurh—with his twisted honor and menacing benevolence, prowled through my mind. His presence would infect my mood for days to come.
Read the full post at the STPFilmArchive.. This article originally appeared on Awards Daily.
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