Review: Burn After Reading (2008) ****

John Malkovich in Burn After Reading
John Malkovich dictates his ‘memwahs’ in Burn After Reading

They are two brothers who have a knack for combining genres and styles into hybrids that can only be described by using their last name as an adjective. Their films are set in a recognizable approximation of reality, but certain elements have been tweaked and exaggerated. Unexpected oddities are emphasized and repeated as motifs - within movies and between them - like the urgent clomping of footsteps or the climate controlled sigh of a door closing on an empty hallway. Here characters speak in strange, colloquial turns of phrase. Words have a musicality and, though their meanings are frequently mundane, they’re as carefully chosen and as repeatable as a line from Shakespeare.

What do these quirks mean? They’re a signpost that you’ve left the known world behind and you’re now adrift in the uniquely skewed universe of Joel and Ethan Coen.

Though their latest film, Burn After Reading, is set in Washington, D.C., it is also clearly rooted in this strange Coen-verse. It’s part spy story and part blackmail caper with elements of bedroom farce sprinkled in. Above all though, it’s a welcome return to comedy and easily the brothers’ most consistently funny effort since The Big Lebowski. Like all Coen films however, the normal rules of funny don’t apply. Here the humor comes not from jokes with punch lines and turns of plot, but through details and dialogue and character interactions.

Though there is plot to spare, this is probably the Coen’s most carefree tale. It is disciplined in that it doesn’t go off on some of the tangents the brothers seem to find so amusing, but it’s also almost entirely irrelevant. It involves a Macguffin (one with its own special ironies), but the story is itself a kind of Macguffin. It’s mainly a thin excuse to set the talented ensemble cast of disparate characters on a collision course. The comedy is in the conflict and how the characters are related is less important than the funny ways they interact.

Like the characters in nearly every other Coen film, those in Burn After Reading are united in not being nearly as clever as they think they are. In the blunt parlance of one Walter Sobchak, “They’re out of their fucking element.”

The first one we meet is John Malkovich as the amusingly abrasive CIA analyst Osborne Cox. He’s the smartest guy in the room and utterly exasperated by the rampant stupidity all around him. The Coens often use curse words like notes in a symphony and Malkovich capably upholds their tradition of amusingly slinging f-bombs.

Tilda Swinton is Cox’s bitchy and uptight wife, Katie. She’s the least memorable character of the bunch, but Swinton makes the most of it, lending Katie a suitably British upper-class brittleness.

George Clooney plays the affable, amorous and mostly clueless US Treasury marshal Harry Pfarrer. His obsession with sex is matched only by his fascination for attractive flooring. In both O Brother Where Art Thou? and Intolerable Cruelty, Clooney tore into his roles with admirable gusto, particularly for a major celebrity and international sex symbol, but he didn’t quite seem to fit the Coen rhythms. Here he dials his performance down a notch and he feels more relaxed and comfortable.

On the other hand, Frances McDormand edges dangerously close at times to cartoon territory in her role as Linda Litzke, a lonely DC gym employee who dreams of being able to pay for thousands of dollars of plastic surgery so she can attract a better class of men through her online dating service. McDormand has a few moments that are almost as over the top as her performance in Raising Arizona, but fortunately she pulls back each time. Eventually, a genuine pathos emerges in Linda and she’s easier to warm up to.

Best of all is Brad Pitt who nearly steals the show as Linda’s hyperactive co-worker Chad Feldheimer. Sometimes an introverted and low-key performer, here Pitt is all gum-chewing nervous energy. Wearing his frosted duotone hair like a badge of stupidity, he digs into his character with the fearless confidence of someone who either doesn’t know he looks like a moron or doesn’t care. Combining some of the impish vigor of Tyler Durden from Fight Club with the hazy cluelessness of Floyd in True Romance, Pitt is at his most engaged and he’s a lot of fun to watch.

Rounding out the main cast is Richard Jenkins as Ted Treffon, the gym manager who quietly pines for Linda. Ted is one of those guys who has quietly led a life of nervous caution and it’s led him nowhere. Slumped over and wearing the look of a man haunted by a lifetime of failure, he may be the saddest character in the Coen oeuvre, trumping even William H. Macy’s Jerry Lundegaard.

One of my favorite little moments in Burn is a sad one and it belongs to Ted. Having spent the film trying to confess his love for Linda, he’s devastated when she loses her temper with him. After she leaves the room, he makes a short, quick inhalation as though he’s literally swallowing his hopeless misery. It’s as close as he ever comes to breaking into actual tears.

In complete contrast to the cast, the cold look from Emmanuel Ubezki’s slick cinematography combines with the dramatically percussive score by Carter Burwell to lend Burn the surface feel of a straight-faced spy story. Against this earnest tableau, the absurd contortions and flailings of the actors are all the more amusing - especially since no one acts like they know they’re being funny.

Whether the A-list cast is enough to draw a wider audience remains to be seen, but it’s fair to say that the peculiar flavor of Coen comedies is an acquired taste. If you haven’t appreciated the humor in their previous efforts, Burn isn’t going to convince you. On the other hand, fans should find plenty laugh about, particularly those who are more comfortable with the Coens as cult favorites than as critical darlings. Though Burn After Reading is unlikely to win any Oscars, it’s a welcome return to the brothers’ simpler roots and, like all their films, should reward repeat viewings. I’m already eager to see it again myself.

Burn After Reading. USA 2008. Written and directed by Ethan Coen and Joel Coen. Cinematography by Emmanuel Lubezki. Edited by Ethan Coen and Joel Coen (as Roderick Jaynes). Score composed by Carter Burwell. Starring George Clooney, Frances McDormand, Brad Pitt, John Malkovich, Tilda Swinton, Richard Jenkins and J.K. Simmons. 1 hour 36 minutes. MPAA rated R for pervasive language, some sexual content and violence. 4 stars (out of 5)

80 Responses to “Review: Burn After Reading (2008) ****”

  1. I am so excited to see this! Ah, it looks so awesome, and as someone who prefers the Coens as cult faves and not critical darlings, I’m pretty sure I will love it. When do I get to see it? Soon I hope.

  2. Agree, agree, agree (other than the fact that I found this more of a horrific noir than a straight comedy). I like how we essentially led off with the same line in our reviews.

    Kudos to pointing out Richard Jenkins character. I would still put Lundegard above him in terms of tragedy (that pathetic image of him hugging his bed, half naked, as he’s being hauled away by the cops, is haunting), but they’re awfully close. I definitely found Jenkins to be the most sympathetic; the moment you highlighted, when he pulls his breath in, was incredible.

  3. Typically enough, Craig’s finest reviews (not that they all aren’t good, cause they are) are the ones where his enthusiasm is at its peak. Craig is an unapologetic Coen Brothers afficionado, and their work always has him fully animated. The fact that they “are at their least disciplined and most irrelevent is perhaps the most promising feature of all with this film, as the brothers are not a linear dup by any stretch. I do look forward to that percussive score by Carter Burwell, who is one of the most evocative composers on the film scene.

    Beautifully written treatment here, and that four-star heading speak volumes, as you are not one prone to overating.
    +

  4. I’m pretty confident Coen afficianados will like what they see and I’m not too concerned about the civilians.

    Hang in there Nick. This one can’t be spoiled the same way No Country was for a lot of people and hopefully SA will get it sooner.

    Evan, are you ready to see this one again? I am. I almost went last night at midnight, but I had this review to write….hopping over to your review to see how we match up…

  5. This is a continuation of a conversation that started in the Weekend Forecast thread:

    http://livingincinema.com/2008/09/11/weekend-forecast-91108/#comment-23881

    “Coens doing a nice long exhale after NCFOM” that’s an excellent summation of BAR Pierre and I agree completely, though unlike you and Hedwig I laughed a lot during this movie.

    It felt like being back in the company of an old friend and there was a shorthand way of communicating that I picked up on right away and it definitely tickled the old funny bone for me.

  6. No mention of J.K. Simmons? He walked away with this film despite only having two scenes. That “What have we learned?” scene might be my favorite scene from any Coen Brothers comedy. Lastly, while I agree that Clooney is more subdued than his previous Coen outings, I’d argue that his performance worked perfectly for O Brother. In that film, everyone was chomping.

  7. The review started to drag during the character rundown so JK ended up on the cutting room floor. We’ll leave him for people to discover themselves (though I agree he was great).

    I liked Clooney a lot in O Brother, but something about him just didn’t quite fit to me. I think he was so obviously Clooney rather than an actor disappearing into his role. It could be my own mental block.

    I think he was also quite good in IC, but again, he stood out and didn’t quite feel natural.

  8. Just got back from seeing this, and while I can’t read your review until I write my own, I have to agree with your star rating. Count me in the pro column here, I had a great time.

  9. Yes, I’d say I enjoyed it quite a bit but it took a long time to get going. I’d say that other than Pitt’s manic overacting, I didn’t laugh much until halfway through the movie, once it began to coalesce.

    The movie had an odd tone to me. It seemed on the surface to be a straight-ahead drama/thriller but built on absurd characters and over-the-top performances. This is the same sort of genre mashing the Coens did in Intolerable Cruelty, the difference being that here it works predominantly because everyone involved is on nearly the same page and there’s no overbearing Hollywood producer mucking it up.

    I’d agree that McDormand does stray into cartoonish territory quite a bit, but it works because it’s sandwiched between Pitt’s totally madcap performance and Clooney’s mugging for the camera. Clooney is less spastic here than in IC or Oh Brother, but he’s still got the facial expressions doing overtime. I enjoyed all three though, and that makes the movie work.

    JK Simmons and Richard Jenkins could be competing for the Best Supporting Role in a comedy here though. Both do a LOT with a little, essentially outshining all the leads. Excellent work.

    I noted (curiously) that if the performances had been less cartoonish and manic (and a particular prop less ridiculous) this movie plays like a straight-ahead relationship drama in the vein of Little Children. The Coens seem to be satirizing more than just spy capers here. They’re going after the bread and butter of indie awards bait with Burn After Reading, and it’s fertile territory for mockery.

    Good stuff.

  10. alynch, I agree completely. That one final scene is GOLD!

  11. glad it worked for you, even if it was somewhat less on a funny scale. I’m hearing that a lot, though I SWEAR I wasn’t the only one in the theater laughing my ass off.

  12. I’m glad you liked this film as much as I do, Craig. It certainly has some weaknesses, as pointed out by Joel, for example. Overall, however, I found BAR to be quite enjoyable — and thought provoking in a non-thought-provoking sort of way, if that makes any sense.

    My impressions of the various acting accomplishments, though, are a little different than some of you. My two favorites, in terms of accomplishment, are McDormand and Jenkins. Although all the performers seem to have been given the green light to unleash themselves, McDormand’s skill seems most evident in her ability to pull back when in danger of going too far. And of course I liked Jenkins not only because his character is the most sympathetic but also because he has some hilariously funny lines that he throws away (one of them extolling the professional virtues of HardBodies, the gym he manages). Furthermore, his final scene was one of the film’s best moments for me.

    Pitt’s work, though enjoyable and free-wheeling, seems less guided by acting skill than McDormand’s. The same assessment applies to Clooney, whose extra efforts are successful but demonstrate, to me, the limits of his talent. Despite these reservations, I enjoyed both their performances.

    I didn’t quite buy the Malkovich character, party because his speech pattern reminded me too much of Malkovich the person but also because his character indeed is abrasive. (Yes, I know, I’m guilty of subjectivity here.)

    Your written assessments are very good, Craig. I can well imagine how difficult it was to say what you wanted to say in the limited context of a review. Your mentions of the Macguffin I feel are helpful, especially your referring to the film itself as a Macguffin; the ability to arrive at that perspective — not to mention finding a way to characterize it in so few words — to me is a key element in understanding and appreciating what the film is — and isn’t — really about.

    Like Joel, I was put off by the length of time the Coens spent setting things up at the beginning, especially in comparison with the speed with which the story was resolved at the end. The audience isn’t given much time to savor what they’ve seen. To my way of thinking, this is merely the Coens trying to avoid the trap that occurs when people are coming off previous Oscar glory. I believe that the choices they made for BAR were a deliberate attempt to avoid the obvious, a concerted effort to not create shopworn Oscarability — which would’ve been too boringly predictable.

    I view BAR as a good synthesis of everything the Coens have done before. And, most significantly, I don’t think they could have done this film before tackling NCfOM. My view is that BAR incorporates undertones of that film.

  13. Ok, I’m going to ramble here because this movie is just starting to sink in.

    Interesting takes on the performances Pierre, even where they diverge from my own. Your knowledge of the craft obviously informs your opinions where I can only respond to how the performances made me feel.

    Now that the laughter has died down - and yes I pretty much laughed all the way through from Malkovich shouting “I have a drinking problem? Fuck you, Peck. You’re a Mormon. Next to you we all have a drinking problem!” to JK Simmons’ final summation of the whole stinking mess - the film is starting to resonate for me. It’s deeper than it looks.

    I’m sure this will stir up another tidal wave of criticism that the Coens are misanthropes, and I agree that they both delight in and are repelled by human stupidity, but that charge is missing the depth of feeling behind ultimate consequences their characters face.

    There’s a genuine sadness to the Jenkins character, and I think an empathy on the part of the brothers. I think there is even in the cartoonish Linda.

    Reading Glenn Kenney’s piece on the film got me to thinking. He points out that this is a stylistic cousin to Raising Arizona, but I think it’s also a thematic one. RA was all about the consequences of the selfishness and singlemindedness of Hi and Ed. In BAR, Linda and Chad are the selfish characters (well each character is selfish in his or her own way) that sort of upset the delicate balance of the world and unleash a shit storm.

    Like I said, I’m rambling. Thoughts are still forming and now I want to see the movie again.

    Besides the Jenkins moment I mentioned in the review, one of my other favorite little moments was George Clooney slapping his belly like George C. Scott coming out of the can in Dr. Strangelove.

  14. The “selfish” angle you mention, Craig, contains one of the film’s gem-like paradoxes — and those paradoxes resonate not only within the context of the film but also with the Coens’ apparent world view. We see McDormand’s character struggling in her frustrating encounters with Big Insurance — encounters that most of us can clearly and intimately relate to. We further learn that McDormand subscribes to New Age-type philosophies — or at least taglines: We see her putting down Jenkins for not ascribing to a “positive” life approach. The irony and hilarity comes from how her self-interest and convoluted self-awareness combine to blind her to reality and lead to her near-undoing — only to find her at film’s end getting exactly what she most-determinedly sought right from the start!

    And yes, the final seen with JK Simmons is a gem whose gem-ability may dart by too quickly upon initial viewing. The “what have we learned” line exemplifies the Coens’ ability to resonate on more than one level under the most simple of guises, successfully using comedy — the genre most laden with mine fields — to achieve this effect.

  15. The irony that Linda ultimately gets what she wants, compounded by the irony that what she wants isn’t what she really needs, is brilliant.

    The ending did indeed happen quickly and that’s part of the reason I want to see it again.

    Are you finding yourself liking it more after the initial blush of seeing it as I am?

    One commenter on that Glenn Kenny piece wondered if maybe Burwell’s score, lacking in comic cues, is part of why some people didn’t laugh more. We’re so subconsciously trained to feel what the music is telling us and the music was telling us it was a straight-faced espionage thriller. I think (like Lebowski was for me) the film will prove more openly funny on future viewings.

    I could be wrong about that.

  16. My other favorite irony of the film and I guess this is ****SPOILER*** territory but if you haven’t seen the movie you probably shouldn’t be here…

    I love that the film’s McGuffin…the disc containing Osbourne’s “memwahs” is not only irrelevent to the actual story…it’s literally irrelevent as well. There is no information on it that anyone actually wants, yet it kicks off this shitstorm of comedy and violence.

  17. Exactly, Craig. Not even Swinton’s character catches on when the truth gets to within an inch of the nose on her face.

    I found myself a bit confused during the film by all the intricate story developments — but then decided it’s not even necessary to comprehend them. The Coens simply are pointing out to us that nobody knows what’s going on and that a great many people go through life making decisions based on totally off-the-wall beliefs and assumptions. And that includes those whose positions in life allow them to exercise an alarming degree of power. We get to see, up close, how the tacitly approved misuse of power at the highest level triggers a chilling — and alarmingly all-too-real — effect that trickles downward to not only the lower levels of today’s corporate/governmental monolith but to random working stiffs who people like us may encounter on a daily basis.

  18. Uncharacteristically I was able to let go of the plot threads and just enjoy the movie viscerally. I think there would’ve been a few extra ounces of enjoyment if I fully appreciated all the ins and outs from the start, but this will be something to nail down on future viewings.

    What you’ve said about the trickledown effect of consequences reminds me of a thought I had about how the different characters sort of represent different classes or groups of people and they’re kind of a microcosm of humanity circling the toilet bowl.

    It begins with a god’s eye view of the whole mess, then zeroes in on the snooty uppercrust Oz, then further down the chain to the more base, but still vaguely white-collar Harry on down to dopes Linda and Chad. I’m not sure what that all means exactly, but there’s a whiff of social commentary here.

    Back to your thoughts on Malkovich whom you didn’t care for as much as I did. His performance may have been the least demanding and out-there, but it was exactly what it needed to be. Maybe it’s casting brilliance more than acting brilliance (it wouldn’t be the first time they’ve written a part with a specific actor in mind if that’s what they’ve done here). With Linda, I quickly warmed up to her and as you said McDormand had the wits to dial back on the verge of cartoonishness, though it was a close call a few times during her opening scene with the plastic surgeon.

  19. Well I have to admit the Coens do little, if anything, to help the audience warm up to these characters.

    Craig, your “god’s eye view” comment has me thinking about Hitchcock’s The Birds, in which the concluding shot of the inferno at the gas station occurs from the sky above. While some have likened this perspective to social commentary from a god-like perspective, others maintain the shot is from the perspective of one of the birds. I point this out as a prelude to the reminder that the initial shot of BAR, seen from a “Google earth” perspective, represents the result of manmade technology as much or more than that of godlike omniscience — a subtle distinction that lends itself to various shades of meaning.

  20. I agree about the Coen’s seeming lack of interest in the likeablity of their characters, but I also think pidgeonholing them as misanthropes misses the mark. (I’m not saying you’re doing that, I’m just saying)

    It’s interesting you mention the manmade technology because knowing that spy’s were involved, I also thought of it as a sattelite’s eye view.

    But there’s also a sense of how perfect things look from a remove but how messed up they are in close.

  21. I’m keeping my eyes tightly shut here, but it testifies to just how busy and squeezed for time I’ve been lately that I have yet to see this film. BAH!

    I’ll correct that sometime in the next 48 hours, though. On the bright side, I can anticipate seeing it for a little while longer. Then I’ll join the ranks of fellow Coenistas beating back the dummies who don’t get it. (No offense to anyone who finds it at all lackluster, of course.)

  22. I”m just now starting to dip my toes into what others are saying about it, though I haven’t had the heart to read any of the negative reviews except for O’hehir’s (he’s WAY off the mark)

    As I’ve said elsewhere, I’m enjoying bathing in the warm glow of my own enjoyment. I’m not in the mood for another litany of the same old tired Coen arguments.

  23. I like O’Hehir’s review, but it ended right where it should’ve begun IMO.

  24. I felt like he enjoyed it more than he thought he should. and I resented the idea that me thinking it was funny makes me stupid.

    Also, labeling the Coens cowardly because they didn’t make Brad Pitt into an openly homosexual stereotype seemed kind of bizarre to me.

  25. Just saw it. Still sinking in but I did enjoy it quite a bit. I think the film suffers from a handful of weaknesses (as eloquently explained in various posts above), but it was undeniably captivating and, most importantly, damn funny. Will now continue to digest!

  26. I’ll keep my eye out for these weaknesses I keep hearing so much about in my next viewing. :)

  27. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m far from convinced that Pitt’s character is supposed to be gay. He could be read that way but not necessarily so.

    As far as weaknesses go, Craig, I was not altogether pleased with the pace at the beginning, and the end ended faster than I wanted it to end. But before I start scheduling additional principal photography, I plan to see it again.

  28. I didn’t get the gay thing at all until I read the comments here. It didn’t even cross my mind.

    And I agree with Pierre; one of my admittedly few issues with the film was the set up. BUT, it goes back to that whole “too many notes” thing. It might have felt long while watching it, but in hindsight, I couldn’t really tell you what I would have taken out to speed things up a bit. Nothing appears to have been there just for the sake of it and there’s a pay off for each single set up.

    I guess my main issue was, ironically since the consensus is quite against me, Frances McDormand’s performance. I can take broad, and every single person in BAR does broad…big time. But her brand of broad didn’t work for me for most of the movie. Same thing with Malkovich (who, for the record, I adore).

  29. OK, I may have missed a comment here or there that matches mine, but I felt the need to respond to the myriad comments that have I read TOOT SWEET (heh heh).

    First, Pierre, I agree that the Coens are going out of their way to make the plot and its many complications painfully obvious because the ridiculous absurdity of the story itself and the characters contained within is all they really care about. This is, in some respects, the coldest movie they’ve done, because it’s difficult to fully connect or sympathize with any of these characters. All of them are fatally flawed and yet morally detached in a manner that puts them far beyond H.I. McDunnough or even Jerry Lundegaard. These are characters that have little connection to the real world, and most of them are too selfish to be easily relatable or connected to the viewer. Jenkins’ character stands out because his motivations are so different from the rest.

    I’d also reject any connection to Raising Arizona. First, Raising Arizona is a live-action cartoon. Burn After Reading is a straight-forward satire of the thriller genre with cartoonish characters. There’s a big difference. H.I. and Ed are not only sympathetic, they truly love and adore each other. Nearly everyone in Burn After Reading is completely and utterly self-absorbed. There’s not even a Marge/Norm relationship to buoy the movie’s emotions to reality. We’ve got Norm in Jenkins, but Marge’s surrogate has no idea he cares for her, let alone feels the same for him.

    That said, I still liked the movie with some reservations, but I do think it’s the most emotionally flat movie from the Coens I’ve ever seen. I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing or a mark against it though. I still enjoyed it just the same. Funny is as funny does.

  30. Classy review Craig. I want to second Sam’s observation that your affinity with and enjoyment of the Coen’s work makes for passionate and nuanced insights. In terms of pure writing I thought your ‘wearing his frosted duotone hair like a badge of stupidity’ line was brilliant.

  31. The Gay Thing. Just to be clear, I’m responding to what Andrew O’herhir said in Salon. I DO NOT think Brad was especially “gay”. He had a number of stereotypical traits that could be tagged as gay,but I felt he was more asexual.

    anyway. Joel, I have to disagree with you about the lack of connection with RA. I felt there was a strong connection, both in terms of the humor and the themes. I don’t think of BAR as a satire of the thriller genre so much as using the thriller genre to explore similar territory as RA’s caper genre. They’re both about an essentially selfish pair of people and the resultant consequences. I’m drawing the distinction between RA and Big Lebowski which is totally different.

    And I don’t agree with it being emotionally flat either. I think both the Richard Jenkins character and the McDormand character are loaded with emotion.

    But that’s just me.

  32. Also, thanks Sartre. Just between you and me, I don’t think I did this movie justice.

  33. Ah, don’t be hard on yourself, Craig! This is a fine piece of writing, and the first paragraph is amazing.

    (warning: spoilers)

    My thoughts? Well, I’ve already expressed my admiration for J.K. Simmons’ part, and I still stand by it: he steals the movie for me. As for other acting comments: I agree that Clooney relies too much on mugging for most of the running time, but there’s one scene, when he lies on the bed in the yacht with Tilda Swinton’s character, and she basically tells him she expects him to leave his wife, the look of panic growing on his face is priceless.

    Furthermore, I think Pierre had a fascinating point about the perfect irony of Linda getting what she wants (but not what she needs) at the end. It’s ironic, really: the only characters who escape the movie relatively unscathed are Linda and Harry, who really are perfect for each other in some deranged way, but who don’t end up together because nobody sees the big picture.

    That’s the big point of the movie, isn’t it? We’re doomed, because we don’t know everything. Even the professional suits at the CIA don’t quite know what happens when simple people collide, but the Coens have a blast exploring it.

  34. Hedwig, Pierre has been spectacular in all his writings on this film, which I have just reviewed again after seeing last night’s 7:00 P.M. show at my local Edgewater multiplex.

    I must COMPLETELY agree with Craig’s summary assessment, and I give the film (as Craig did) a 4/5 rating. I am trying to put together a review of it now. I do agree that Pitt was more asexual or cosmopolitan than he was gay, although it’s still the most feminine character he’s ever played, comparitively speaking–he was surely a hoot though–Mr. Jenkins and Ms. McDormand did indeed emote and were emotional centers of the film. This is a second great performance in 2008 for Jenkins–in fact his turn in THE VISITOR is the single greatest performance of the year by an actor in a leading role.
    And Hedwig, you nailed it with that “we’re doomed” scenario that the film eschewed. In fact Ethan Coen gave us a lead-in with his play ALMOST AN EVENING, which I saw last year in Manhattan–an unabashed and up-front look at doomsday time for the human race sprinkled generously with characteristic irreverent humor.

  35. Good point Hedwig, and yes Craig, it’s a good review. But I also think the richness of their work inevitably leads to further insights with repeat viewings, so if you’re thinking you under-wrote or something I honestly don’t think you did. But there’s likely more to get at it down the line.

    These might be SPOILERS, so proceed with CAUTION:

    I have to disagree about Linda (McDormand). I think she’s an emotional character and I’d agree with Hedwig that her only real chance of an emotional connection is with Harry, but my take on her is that she’s so superficially focused on her self that everything else kinda falls by the wayside. When Harry leaves, once again showing his lack of any real connection to any of the women in his life, Linda seems only mildly surprised. What does she do? Blackmails the CIA for her surgeries.

    Again, as I previously mentioned, Jenkins’ Ted is truly a sad man and I really, really felt for him in every scene. But he’s the only character I really sympathized with and what happens to him? He dies a painful, pointless, and bloody death. Not exactly what I’d call warmth for him from the Coens. And how did he end up there? That part was completely unexplained as far as I can recall.

    END SPOILERS

    I’m not going to say I’m some authority on Raising Arizona, but it is my favorite Coen Brothers film and I’ve always felt that regardless of their actions, strengths, or weaknesses, the Coens and the actors involved are all in love with H.I. and Ed from the start to the finish of the picture. In the end, it’s implied that they have found peace and happiness even though they didn’t get what they originally wanted. Or it might have been Utah.

    Burn After Reading didn’t have that feeling for me. I never felt like Linda, Harry, Chad, Osborne, and definitely not Katie were characters of much emotional depth or people I was expected to connect to. That’s my reading of the film and the characters, but beyond subverting a genre (we can agree on that, Craig) I didn’t see much connection to the warmth and depth of Raising Arizona. They both exist in an absurd parallel universe, they both feature colorful cartoonish characters that act oddly, but that’s where the connection ended for me.

    But just let me reiterate: I LIKED THE MOVIE. It was funny and I enjoyed it Coen-ness-ness.

  36. A good number of the characters in BURN AFTER READING do not have emotional depth, but that is most acceptable in the Coen universe. I think 4 of 5 is a fair rating for this film. I personally like it better than RAISING ARIZONA, but for me NCFOM and FARGO trump it.

  37. I don’t want to add fuel to the fire that the Coens dislike their characters or are pessimistic film makers. I completely reject those worn-out and simplistic readings of their films altogether, but I do think this movie plays into those criticisms more than their other films do. But I don’t think they dislike any of these characters and the movie seems more absurd than pessimistic to me.

    I’d rate Burn After Reading as maybe a 3.5/5 (or just round to 4) myself but place it lower on my personal list of Coen faves.

  38. I respect a 3.5 rating for this film, that is most surely fair enough.

  39. Two things occurred this morning: I discovered that people on this thread have differing reactions and interpretations to BAR, and the sun came up. Why am I not surprised?

    First, this: There’s not even a Marge/Norm relationship to buoy the movie’s emotions to reality. . . . but I do think it’s the most emotionally flat movie from the Coens I’ve ever seen. . . . I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing or a mark against it though.

    I’m glad you included the last sentence, Joel.

    For those who had trouble with McDormand’s characterization, I’ll say that it took a little time for me to adjust to it. I think McDormand in general can be an acquired taste, and her range isn’t very broad. One reason her Fargo portrayal was so well received is because that character had the lovability factor, a quality we don’t see much of in her BAR character.

    One thing to remember about BAR is that this is not a relationship movie or character study. The reference point for everyone involved is pretty much calibrated from their working lives. Even the sole (ostensibly) intimate relationship portrayed — that of the Clooney/Swinton marriage — occurs “post-love”; the relationship is over but for the attorneys and the paperwork.

    The “view” from these characters is not directed inwardly (into their psyches) nor even to each other. Rather, we see them being connected to the institutions concoted by society (that “thing” out there): McDormand to Big Insurance, for example, or her poorly conceived and applied notions of spydom, some of which may have originated from overhearing stray comments while on the job in suburban Washington. Next, Malkovich, when he suffers personal consequences attributed in large part to a personal issue (alcoholism), points his focus not inward to address his problems but, rather, outward into the professional game of published insider exposés. Even his wife’s (Swinton) reaction is from a professional perspective that reflects economic concerns and professional status as viewed from the outside. Clooney, as well, serves his inner impulses by hopping on the monolithic train of Internet dating, a most impersonal tool paradoxically designed to serve our most personal of needs (human contact).

    But that’s much of what the film is about — how we position ourselves, interpret and react with outside world — as defined by the outside world on the basis of the collective voice supplied to us from the news, the Internet, our HMOs, the government, People magazine, etc.

    BAR lacks the cuddly warmth we so often crave in our entertainment. This is not so much a matter of style but the effects of a thematic construct the Coens have chosen to employ for this film. In a way, BAR is the flip side of the coin we saw in NCfOM. It’s as if the Coens are saying, “We don’t care if the audience feels pathos here as they did toward Anton Chigurh’s victims and near victims (the strangled deputy, the convenience store clerk, the trailer park lady, the cattle gun victims). We already won our Oscar — we’re making our point another way.”

    Craig, if you’re having doubts about your review, that’s only because there’s so much to talk about that cannot fit into the limited confines of a review, which by necessity precludes the deeper analysis that happens in film class, blog comments or books. One of the greatest things about your review is that you’ve placed it in a much-needed context so that anyone with at least a passing interest in the film — whether or not they’re familiar with the Coens — has been provided with valuable reference points. You’ve done an excellent job of addressing the film as a whole and by highlighting a primary aspect of the film: it’s characters and their performances.

    And, like Dorothy, although I became impatient during the film’s early setup, I’m certainly at a loss as to how I’d change it for my idea of the better. The only thing I can think of might be through editing — bringing in some McDormand/Pitt scenes earlier to provide more chuckles — since the Clooney and Swinton characters, for example, are too unappealing at first to trigger the laugh reflex.

    But that’s just me.

  40. Hmm, interesting analysis Pierre. I’m going to have ruminate on those points a bit but I agree with you and Dorothy (and Evan’s and Craig’s reviews) that the movie is once again an incredible economy of narrative where removing any piece or changing the general structure (adding scenes, delineating characters differently) would surely work against it.

    And I don’t really have a problem with my reaction to the movie. I was mildly disappointed by my lack of connection to the characters in the first half of the film. I felt myself in the theater feeling detached, but then it all began to come together in the second half and I realized that my reaction was something they were trying to get at, maybe even draw out of the audience.

    Your hypothesis reminds me (in an oblique way) of The Man Who Wasn’t There. Ed Crane defines himself by his job, to such an extent that the Coens spend an inordinate amount of time detailing him through his work.

  41. part of my issue with the review is that I think I underestimated this movie. It has layers I didnt peel back until a day or two later. This is the danger of writing reviews quickly I suppose.

    Anyway, great thoughts everybody. I don’t have time to reply to them all at the moment, but Joel suffice it to say we agree BAR is a much more cynical film than RA. I’m not saying BAR is as good as RA, but I do believe they are kindred spirts.

  42. That’s the nature of the game, Craig. Reviews by nature must be written before the reviewer has time to let it ruminate. But your high estimation of the film came through loud and clear right from the start.

    I suspect that right now we’re all ruminating over what we saw, trying to understand it and sort through our reactions. That’s the beauty of this film that it compels us so. And that’s also the beauty of LiC, a place where we can do that amongst those of us who drop by.

  43. I’ve only read the script and what I find so fascinating is how the Coens and their collaborators have taken something I found very average on paper and made it into a film that is both so well received and worthy of such thoughtful analysis here. I anticipated it turning out to be their second weakest movie, and this is clearly far from the case.

    And the words by themselves never caused me to laugh out loud nor seemed otherwise particularly clever. Just goes to show how the page can really be elevated/deepened when masters translate it to the screen.

    Even among so many caricatures I experienced McDormand’s character irritatingly broad in the script.

  44. sartre, I think a lot of the success had to do with successful acting — and that, of course, involves good direction as we know from experience that there are a lot of mediocre films out there featuring top-notch actors.

    This particular film has succeeded artistically because of but not limited to the effects of the following factors:

    1) a batch of experienced performers who believed in the novel creative concept

    2) directors who extended their track record of good results from their actors, and

    3) creative control by the writers/directors over the finished product.

    These portrayals — though they encompassed aspects of cartoonery and caricature — also traveled beyond those elements. The word “picaresque” continues to cross my mind.

  45. “Even among so many caricatures I experienced McDormand’s character irritatingly broad in the script.”

    I can see how it might read somewhat flat as most of the humor in Linda is conveyed via McDormand’s performance. McDormand brings a lot of subtlety to key scenes.

  46. Pierre, I would add to your #1 - a cast that is fully committed to the craziness and unafraid to look foolish.

  47. I’m with the lovely and amazing Hedwig, Craig.

    I can guarantee you that I enjoyed your superlative review far more than the actual movie. Your first two paragraphs are exquisite, pal - and I do understand that you could only go into so much surface detail without revealing important plot points.

    So well done, honey bear…

    I was on the fence for a while. But (as I’m sure you’re aware) this particular blonde is not a comfortable fence sitter. Plus you can only stay in one spot so long before your ass gets spiked.

    Now that the general critical and public reactions have settled (and I read ALL the spoilers elsewhere - so I know the respective fates of all the characters) and it does appear that BAR’S NOT headed for Oscar glory, I can safely say I’m not going.

    I have nothing against the Coens. They’ve made some movies I really like.

    (Actually, one of my fairly recent catch phrases - that I use A LOT - came from one of their films. if anyone can come up with what it is and what movie, I just MAY buy them dinner if they happen to be out my way. Some time. Somewhere.

    Just want to make sure that people are paying sufficient attention…)

    So I have nothing against these dudes per se. It’s simply that, as auteurs, they possess a rather foreign sensibility as compared to mine. I just can’t worship at their shrine.

    But carry on with the lovefest. I’m happy that everyone is enjoying it so much.

    Like Snagglepuss (my childhood hero), I’ll exit.

    Stage left…

  48. As I haven’t seen this yet, but will, hopefully tonight, I just wondered if anyone thinks this may be in its own way another culmination for the Coens as No Country for Old Men certainly was.

    From the very beginning of the Coens’ filmography, they have clearly been actively thinking about America and the country’s place in the world. As their films have been about Americana, usually focusing on the dreams of Americans trying to get ahead, and the consequences of unleashing certain forces, both directly and indirectly, on the countryside, so to speak.(”The world is full o’ complainers. An’ the fact is, nothin’ comes with a guarantee. Now I don’t care if you’re the pope of Rome, President of the United States or Man of the Year; somethin’ can all go wrong. Now go on ahead, y’know, complain, tell your problems to your neighbor, ask for help, ‘n watch him fly. Now, in Russia, they got it mapped out so that everyone pulls for everyone else… that’s the theory, anyway. But what I know about is Texas, an’ down here… you’re on your own.”)

    The Vietnam War has repeatedly been a motif of the Coens, with veterans of that war, such as The Big Lebowski and No Country for Old Men. As the Coens’ dissection of the withering of sociohistorical and cultural innocence, it makes much sense that their films would touch upon what is often considered the final breaking point of American innocence.

    So, when I heard that they were making a “spy spoof,” or whatever it is they have created here, it tickled me pink, as it seems like a ripe avenue on which they can explore themes that have bubbled up over and over in their work.

    I’ve gotta see this.

  49. I will say Linda Litzke’s quest is very Llewelyn like - just as foolish and not without its share of consequences.

    I get a little skittish about reading too much into the Coens socio-politically though…partly because they’re so hesitant to blatantly do so themselves. Perhaps I’m naive, but I believe their first concern with Burn After Reading was to make themselves (and thereby the audience) laugh. That it might also have a deeper resonance beyond that may have as much to do with the fact that they’re exceptionally intelligent, well-read people.

    I’m beginning to think of this one as a kind of mirror that reflects back a viewers feelings. Particularly misanthropic people like Jeff Wells are responding to that aspect of it, more politically minded types might see another swipe at blundering American adventurism. I suspect deep down that both analyses are off the mark, but then maybe I’m not trying hard enough.

  50. Well, I certainly didn’t understand so many critics asservating that No Country for Old Men was really about Iraq. Sometimes life is just as much a reflection of art as the other way; many certainly do bring certain, arguably subjective, concepts to the Coens’ oeurve. That’s why I’ll have to write my book about the Coens that Joel asked me to write some months back. I kid.

    Whatever anyone thinks of Burn After Reading, one thing is certain, Wells is a misanthrope.

  51. He is, though he’s not at all wrong for appreciating that angle of BAR. This movie is going to feed into a lot of people’s opinions that the Coens are snotty intellectuals who hate their characters.

  52. Holy crap, I have to skip all of these comments right now, so please excuse…

    Great review, Craig, and the first one I’ve chosen to read. Funny that we saw it in a very similar light (and even used similar language), though I think you might have edged me by a half star or so. This is a key line: “the humor comes not from jokes with punch lines and turns of plot, but through details and dialogue and character interactions.” Agree on the first point, but diverge a little on the second. I think I almost enjoyed the characters in their own element more than I did when they were interacting (save for a few moments, ie, the car scene with Pitt and Malkovich). For example, I loved just observing Malkovich at home, Pitt in the closet, Clooney’s nervous tics, etc. A very small difference to be sure, but a noticeable one. Either way, this is definitely worth repeated viewings, and Pitt has earned my respect as a comedic actor in a new way.

  53. I’m a little relieved with each positive review from friends, even if my enthusiasm is a teeny bit higher.

    Though you enjoyed the individual moments, I think we’re still on the same page in that we agree the comedy isn’t punch line based and is therefore kind of hard to quantify.

    Speaking of that car scene….when Pitt is trying to act all tough and mysterious but we know he’s a complete fool. Classic.

  54. Has that scene not been addressed here yet?! It had the best line of the movie!:

    “You think that’s a Schwinn?!!?”

    Loved it.

    I’ll catch up on these later…

  55. ahahha…yeah.

  56. No Country is applicable to the war in Iraq or more broadly to the war on terror, but I wonder if most viewers will intuitively make those connections in 20 years? I think it’s similar to Taxi Driver, which at the time of its release some reviews equated with a response to the Vietnam War. In retrospect (for me), Taxi Driver is a character study of isolation, fear, and a self-destructive quest for control in an uncontrollable world. It applies just fine to the mid-1970’s or to 2008.

    While I think you can easily make those War analogies for either movie, neither movie acknowledges, directly or through obvious subtext, either conflict. On my first viewing, I was convinced that Iraq was a theme of No Country, but subsequent viewings have led me to believe I’m projecting my own concerns onto the film.

    I think it’s more accurate to say No Country addresses the loss of security and cultural understanding that 9/11 embodied for most Americans, but more broadly that same feeling could be applied to a number of points in the 20th century.

  57. I wasn’t thinking Iraq War/War on Terror in a more literal sense when reading No Country and watching the film. I don’t think the preoccupations and emotional tone found in the work of artists can avoid being in some way shaped by the predominant zeitgeist. So I’d be surprised if some level of connection didn’t exist. However, I’m often skeptical about confident sociopolitical analysis of films. Within any substantial work of art one can find a basis for inferring from and projecting into it a range of meaning. No one view is any less valid than another. But I personally think too much has been made of No Country as a sociopolitical commentary. The story in essence could have been conceived exactly as it is across several decades. And as Joel says, it’s likely to be enjoyed in the future well after the present zeitgeist has evolved into something different.

  58. I concur with all of that, Sartre.

    My position is sort of “in-between” the “yay” or “nay” arguments vis-a-vis the Coens’ sociopolitical strain (including No Country for Old Men). Their films have always struck me as uniquely American (which doesn’t mean they can’t be and aren’t appreciated by many others in the world at all), as they tend to excavate what are usually considered essentially American concerns and anxieties (frequently purified by the ongoing struggle between personal happiness and the allure of money in their work).

    So, while I see No Country for Old Men as a bold continuation and expansion of that and many other Coen theses, I think for some to describe it as a specific, possibly didactic statement about the Iraq War misses the mark; their interests are more permanent and amaranthine than that.

    Or so I think. ;)

  59. “Speaking of that car scene….when Pitt is trying to act all tough and mysterious but we know he’s a complete fool. Classic.”

    I’d hand him an Oscar just for that. Friggin’ hilarious. Frankly, Brad made the movie for me. His Chad was a tremendous success of zany abandon. Someone else made a big impression on me, ironically: Clooney! I thought his performance was delightful–reminiscent of Giancarlo Giannini at his cartoonish best (and that’s the highest compliment I can pay to someone since Giannini is possibly my favorite male actor).

  60. Wow Dorothy, I like the guy - Giannini - but have only seen him in a few relatively small supporting roles. Which of his film performances should I seek out?

    I’m not surprised that we essentially agree Alexander.

  61. Dorothy, I too give Clooney a lot of credit for his job well done here and can visualize the comparison to Giannini. It’s delightful to see Clooney inject so many risks into a role that might scare others away. I mean, his embodiment of that character is not very sympathetic a lot of the time and clearly exhibits potent psychological wiring problems. And he’s not pretentious about it. But he doesn’t stop there. In the scene where he finds Pitt in the closet, that’s real terror in his eyes as he rolls over and draws his gun — reminescent of Jodie Foster (Silence of the Lambs) when she’s battling it out with Buffalo Bill in that dark basement.

    “This movie is going to feed into a lot of people’s opinions that the Coens are snotty intellectuals who hate their characters.”

    I can see why you say that, Craig, but I’m not so sure. Each of the film’s many characters has a sympathetic side or at least one sympathy-inducing moment. The standout in this regard would be Jenkins in his climactic confrontation with Malkovich. Jenkins, sympathetic all along, really shines as a hero for love — he knows (unlike the others) that what he’s doing is foolhardy. But at least his motives are pure. The Coens give him this moment and he delivers.

    This sort of segues into what Joel, Alexander and others have been discussing about sociopolitical meanings in this and other Coens films. I subscribe to a broad view, such as that expressed by sartre, that the Coens avoid intentions specific to Iraq, the war on terror, etc., though such things are most probably enveloped in their themes.

    Yet BAR, for example, addresses many of our society’s institutions: big government, big insurance, the health & beauty megaculture, the Internet’s role in our quest for love (romantic or otherwise). By spotlighting all of these as they do, the Coens are revealing the total disconnects that are occurring — in all aspects of our lives and at all levels of society. Say what you will about the McDormand character’s blindness to reality, she’s managed to adapt to a broken system and turn it on its heels to her favor. With a little bit of luck, her “power of positive thinking” in the end sees her emerge as the heroine. (Whether she finds true happiness as a result of her cosmetic surgeries is really beside the point — at least in the context of this film; the Coens could always do further exploration like Fellini did with his wife, Giulietta Masina, in successive films.)

    Likewise, the JK Simmons character — not an unintelligent man — deals with an unfathomable situation as best he can, not understanding why but at least surviving intact until the next case comes along.

    I don’t know whether BAR is a culmination for the Coens. For now, however, it’s a fine disillation of everything they’ve done before it.

  62. Pierre “Each of the film’s many characters has a sympathetic side or at least one sympathy-inducing moment.” I agree, but I don’t necessarily think it will dissuade people who are predisposed against the Coens…and they are legion.

    Dorothy, I think Pitt was my overall favorite part, but they all have such great moments. I was just thinking of the party scene with Clooney gabbing and spilling food on the carpet and Malkovich is just fuming. No one says anything and there’s no obvious shot of the wreckage on the floor, but it’s all in the expressions.

  63. Pierre, your writing is superb. I hate to gush, but all you guys are such exemplary cinephiles. Love it.

    Sartre, you *must* check out the films Giannini made with Lina Wertmuller in the early 1970s. They made four pictures together: “Love and Anarchy,” “The Seduction of Mimi,” “Seven Beauties,” and “Swept Away” (these are the shortened titles, as Ms. Wertmuller gave her films quite the long titles…not a surprise if you discover what her real name is!).

    Of the four, “Seven Beauties” garnered the most success and Giannini received an Academy Award nomination for his work as Pasqualino. The film itself is a perfect example of gallows humor. And Giannini, well, his is one of the funniest, most heartbreaking performances ever put on film.

    “The Seduction of Mimi” is another triumph, though I did get lost in a lot of the political diatribes. Still, the humor, while somewhat perverse, is incredibly effective. So much so that Richard Pryor loosely based his film “Which Way Is Up?” on the Wertmuller comedy.

    “Love and Anarchy” is a departure for Wertmuller and Giannini; more dramatic and less flighty. Effective, but not as much as the two previous ones. I leave “Swept Away” for last because it really isn’t that great, with the exception of the performances. The idea that women need (and want!) to be beaten into submission is still as offensive today as I’m sure it was then. Still, the two gave us two perfect films and one nearly perfect one. Nothing shabby about that! Definitely check them out, sartre. And make sure to choose the Italian versions, not the English-dubbed ones!

    Here’s the opening sequence for “Seven Beauties”: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aXHn7Fn97Ss

  64. Pierre’s writing is absolutely brilliant, Dorothy. The man is a genius.

    And Sartre, well he’s a genius too, and a man of exceeding character.

  65. Thanks a lot for the praise, Dorothy. And of course I trust you realize that Pierre is one of your biggest fans.

    “I don’t necessarily think it will dissuade people who are predisposed against the Coens…and they are legion.”

    Agreed. That’s why I was a bit surprised, like you, to hear that BAR did so well at last weekend’s box office. Maybe audiences like following the topsy turvy story line, relishing along the way at the stupidity of the characters as well as the near-clueless bumbling of mid-level government employees. And we’d be remiss to disregard the charming antics of Mr. Pitt and the outlandish piece of gym equipment created by Mr. Clooney.

  66. Yes Pierre, I think the inherent goofiness of the film on behalf of major celebrities trumps the underlying darkness of the movie and makes it more palatable.

  67. Also, not to muscle in on the love-in, but I’m huge fans of all of you. :)

  68. Thanks Dorothy! :-) I’m looking forward to catching up with these films and Giannini’s performances within them.

  69. I just came home from this a few minutes ago.

    A lot to digest.

    95-minute films do not come more packed than this these days, however, especially once it gets really rolling at about the thirty-minute mark.

    Malkovich gave my favorite performance. Clooney and Swinton from Michael Clayton, oh my. Floor fetish!

    I’m sure your review is great, Craig…

  70. Well, I actually liked Clooney in O Brother Where Art Thou?.

    Terrific review, Craig. I don’t have much to add to what’s already been said. This was pure Coen Brothers, as you’ve pointed out, and I really enjoyed it. One of the things I love most about them is their sense of the absurd. For example the whole motif of Clooney building that chair for his wife and the scene where he’s destroying it are too ridiculous for words.

    The whole cast was excellent, but I think Brad Pitt was my favorite. He was just so funny.

  71. Brad Pitt with his highly classified shit was awesome.

    Don’t get me wrong, I love Clooney in both O Brother and Intolerable Cruelty…there was just something about him that didn’t quite seem to jibe with the Coen vibe. He was too obviously Clooney doing an act for me…but that could’ve just been me.

  72. I think it was you, Craig. We know about your Clooney envy. ;-)

  73. Is that a nice way of saying “Man-crush”?

  74. No. There’s a difference between “man-crush” and wanting to be like a certain guy. Clooney envy. That phrase should be added to the lexicon of such terms. :-)

  75. hahaha….ok

  76. i keed i keed

  77. You didn’t disappoint, Craig–this is a sublime review: I really enjoyed the opening paragraphs particularly as your nothing less than perspicacious analysis of the Coens’ use of words hits the proverbial bull’s-eye.

    And I agree, Ted just may be the saddest character in the entire Coen canon.

  78. It is a great review, and I stated my own position after it was written, and saw it the following night with similar sentiments.

    But having said that I don’t think Craig’s position is as firm as it was. Translation: I would wager even money he would give it no higher than *** 1/2 today.

    I stick to my ****.

    There’s another great review of it up at CCC.

  79. With this, after taking it’s sweet time, finally making it to Buenos Aires, I took in a showing a couple of evenings ago. First thing I’d seen in the cinemas since… Tropic Thunder, I think, a month and a half ago. Anyways, I have to agree with the majority of the review. I thought the movie was just a blast, and, this might be the minority review here, I’d argue that it might just be the funniest thing the Coens have ever made.

  80. Yeah! I’m glad it clicked for you Michael.

    “funniest thing the Coens have ever made” is strong stuff indeed. It’s interesting how divided people are on the level of the humor. I’m in the middle somewhere (as I seem to be on so many things)

    Nevertheless, after two viewings, I also thought it was a lot of fun.

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