Is anyone else tired of reading these reactionary pieces from critics defending The Counselor? I have read Scott Founda's 'Rearview' for Variety and Devin Faraci's "In Defense of The Counselor" for BadAssDigest. They are not tiresome because I disagree - which I do - or because they are not coming from reputable sources - which they are - but rather, because the arguments are poor. Misters Founda and Faraci have made arguments claiming detractors (1) do not understand the movie and (2) cannot cope with the movie making you feel uncomfortable. Both of these arguments have little to no merit, in that, they may regard the majority of the movie going public but seem to disregard the experience and acumen that so many of the detracting critics possess. So if you did not care for The Counselor, fear not, it is not the movie, it is you. You can just come on back and reassess the situation and realize you are wrong.
Mr. Founda writes that, “Audiences are accustomed to being spoon-fed every last detail.” Yes, perhaps it is true that the highest grossing films are straight ahead, plot driven and literally spectacular. They are more interested in entertaining audiences while extracting their dollars for corn-based snacks than in telling an meaningful story involving people with which you can empathize. However, this does not include all audience members, nor does it include critics – a more discerning group of folk who make their greenbacks writing about this stuff. Anyone who can appreciate a film by Michael Haneke, Lars Von Trier, Terrance Malick, or Shane Carruth is capable of living without ‘spoon-fed’ plot points and details. And the films of these directors are prestigious and critically successful: Haneke’s Amour and Malick’s The Tree of Life were both nominated for Best Picture at the Oscars. In fact, the film does not fail because it is incomprehensible but because it is too comprehensible. The dialogue leaves no question as to what the film is about.
A word on the dialogue. This is not good dialogue. Not because the philosophies expressed are untrue. Not because they are unrelated to the themes of the film. But because they are the themes of the film. The film has no subtext because the characters expose it every time they open their mouths. And the result is that the plot and characters through these rambling, yet accurate conversations undermine the plot instead of reinforcing it. Narrative should instead work this way: all the pieces, all the devices are moving together to inform the same ideas. Perhaps it will sprawl or be obscure, but opacity is a useful tool. This film is not too difficult to understand but quite the opposite: it leaves little to the imagination.
Mr. Founda writes that, “McCarthy doesn’t write dialogue that sounds like ordinary conversation,” as a way of explaining the interminable conversations. As a reader of Mr. McCarthy, I am inclined to disagree with this statement. While Mr. McCarthy features characters in his novels that speak in unnatural and sometimes philosophical ways, this is limited usually to one character: the Judge in Blood Meridian, the trio of men in Outer Dark, or, more popularly, Anton Chigurh in No Country for Old Men. The problem in The Counselor is that all the characters speak in this manner. The point here being that this dialogue is not consistent with Mr. McCarthy’s dialogue as featured in his prose.
(I suppose an argument can be made here that Ed Tom Bell from “No Country for Old Men” is another voice offering philosophical understanding contrary to Chigurh’s. In this case it is different. “No Country…” is a film with little dialogue and the recollections of Sherriff Bell are edifying to the story. Rather than expositing the themes he offers one side to the argument that Mr. McCarthy is presenting and his character, and argument, are made stronger through those monologues.)
Mr. Faraci writes, “People like to be coddled and helped along and made, ultimately, to feel good.” The first part of this statement echoes Mr. Founda’s quote about being spoon-fed: disliking the film is due to a difficult and estranging plot line. But the last part of the sentence, the “made, ultimately, to feel good,” part is another baseless claim about this film. Going to the cinema, or any engagement with narrative, is not concerned solely with feeling good. Look at the success of a film such as The Notebook. Certainly a two dimensional film existing for the sole purpose of eliciting sadness in the viewer and ultimately leading to a cathartic clarity. If that example is too commercial, look at the films of some of the aforementioned directors. Michael Haneke traffics in estranging, disturbing and, simply put, difficult cinema and yet he is a respected auteur, who, while divisive, is nonetheless a recipient of praise. So, the notion that The Counselor is a difficult film, that is not interested in making you “feel good,” is not a qualitative argument to make in regards to its critical success.
One part of the film that is strong is the scene featuring John Leguizamo and Dean Norris. Mr. Faraci cites this scene writing, “John Leguizamo and Dean Norris have a scene together late in the movie that feels like it came from another film.” With this I wholeheartedly agree. This scene comes from the film I would like to see. The scene works because neither character says anything insightful. Rather they attempt to grasp the meaning of a brutal act and fail, which is the thesis of the film: that we can never reconcile our understanding of the world with the brutal, cold-blooded world of the narcotics traffic through these border towns. (For a more interesting take on this theme read Charles Bowden’s fantastic book Murder City: CiudadJuarez and the Global Economy's New Killing Fields.) But instead of allowing the plot to unfold and present the thesis bit by bit, we are bludgeoned with it while, presumably, someone films it and then sends a copy to our respective families. Hola!