No Haircut for Old James

This is the haircut that I want to get that my wife won't let me have.

When I first heard of No Country for Old Men, I was reading a Time magazine or a Newsweek, and they were making their predictions for what will win the Oscars, and what should win the Oscars. In general, their picks for an Oscar winner were much less pretentious than what they predicted the Academy would choose, but on the topic of Best Supporting Actor, they agreed completely. Javier Bardem, they said, was frightening as hell as the monster in this film, and to back it up, they included an outline of his character (the image above minus the background).

I thought, indeed, that is a scary looking motherfucker. I wonder what the hell this movie is about. So, based on a single image alone, reinforced later by general reviews of the same, I decided to see No Country for Old Men in theatres.

I don't know how, but on Valentine's Day, I convinced my wife to go see this movie with me. I'm very surprised and quite proud of her for going along with this - the title and advertising for this suggests "Western", which I know she hates, and she's not the type to be convinced by the fact that a film gets critical praise and Oscar nods. On the contrary - she sees it as an indication that the film will be boring, wordy, or pretentious.

Now I had to stand in line while the slowest cashier on earth got me snacks, so I missed one of the key opening sequences to the movie. But I know it must've been a doozy, because sneaking in, the whole audience, my skeptical wife included, were hooked. And when Anton Chigurh (the character in the infamous image) made his next appearance on screen, my wife nudged me and squeezed my arm - that's that scary motherfucker she was whispering to me about.

I have to give props to the movie for openly stating it's own opinion of the character via another character's dialog - "So, what's this guy supposed to be, the ultimate bad-ass or something?" - and backing it up; I expect several heads in the audience were nodding in response. I know I was.

So we come back from the movie, and we're all excited, because we just saw something totally awesome, and I do what I usually do after watching a movie I like - go read reviews of it to see if my opinion is validated. Then I stop, and get my wife, because I see something that's totally wrong.

Here is a photo of the actor, Javier Bardem, out of character.

This photo is a lie.

There is no way that this man is the same one from the movie. Look at his smiling face.

This is a trap, people. This man is a stone cold killer. You don't fake that kind of acting. That shit only comes from some demon in your soul - some alien that doesn't understand human nature; that has no empathy for the suffering of his fellow man.

And look at this; this is the acceptance speech Javier Bardem gives at the Oscar's. He says something to his mother in Spanish that causes her to tear up.

Now, I don't know Spanish very well, but I'm pretty sure he just threatened to kill her with a captive bolt pistol if she didn't call a coin toss right.

I'm on to you, Javier. Your tricks won't work on me.