Republished from the show notes of my other site, Fuds on Film.
A film perfectly suited for me, as I am indeed a man of constant sorrow. Like all British people. We just will not stop apologising.
This one hundred percent literal adaptation of Homer’s Odyssey sees George Clooney, John Turturro, and Tim Blake Nelson make a break for freedom from a chain gang, as Clooney’s loquacious Ulysses Everett McGill promises to share a portion of some buried, ill gotten treasure with Pete and Delmar if they help him get to that location before it is flooded by a soon to be commissioned dam.
To be honest, if you try to recap succinctly the plot of O Brother, you will sound like a madman in the throes of a fever dream, so best to just call it a road trip, in which scarcely believable events happen to our leads that will see them accidentally become phenomenally successful recording artists, put them in a tight spot, test their haircare regimen, test the bonds of family and friendship, and have John Goodman smack them in the face with a tree branch.
I loved O Brother back on release, and although I don’t think I’ve actually watched it in the interim, in the main that’s because that first run through did a pretty bang up job of imprinting itself on me to the point that I’ll often think back to the outright weirdness of having the “we’re in tight spot” phrase as a running joke for, like, two minutes, then dropping it, or buying a tee-shirt featuring McGill’s preferred pomade solution.
I am gratified to find myself just as entertained this time round, with excellent performances all round and sharp, tightly honed dialogue that makes it exceptionally easy to pass the time with these characters as they are swept along on their journey. Sure, it doesn’t make a great deal of sense, but when it’s this much fun I’m not that bothered.
The strongest inspiration it perhaps takes from Odyssey is, well, the form, I suppose. This is a myth of the American South in the Depression, not a documentary, so perhaps it could be said to capture an emotional if not literal truth. I’ll leave that to the comparative historians, I’m just a boy, speaking on a podcast, recommending that you watch this, in the unlikely event you have not yet done so.
As for your boy Deakins, he’s really dropped the ball on this one. Looks terrible. Hang on, wait, no, the opposite of that. I regret the error. It’s never less than pretty, all (presumably highly graded) sun dappled golden hours and dreamy sequences at moments of, let’s say, heightened reality, and it’s a delight to watch even with the audio off. Although, obviously, you shouldn’t do that, because of the excellence of the dialogue, and the superb soundtrack. It’s good, is what I’m telling you.