Chigurh operates under his own logic, which is to say there is no logic. Is he after the money, has he been hired to find the money, or is he simply evil? Many will speculate, but we never know for sure. What we do know is that he is a human: he stitches his wounds and actively tries to avoid the police. This humanity beneath illogical, haunting actions makes the situation all the more insane. Consider the scene – now famous from the trailer – in which Chigurh essentially places the life of an old clerk on the outcome of a coin toss. After the clerk successfully calls heads and tries to pocket the newly-won quarter, Chigurh snaps, “That’s your lucky quarter. If you put it in your pocket it becomes just another coin. Which it is.”

That’s the sort of logic that motivated the twenty year old kid to murder a young girl for kicks. Chigurh is something Bell simply cannot comprehend, let alone defeat. Bell’s actions are therefore less proactive than those by McDormand in Fargo. He chooses to reason with Moss via his young wife (Kelly Macdonald). It’s all he can do. By this point, we understand the meaning of the movie’s title.

This film is bigger than its story. Even as I write this review, I realize more and more things about the intricacies of the plot. The twists, turns, and revelations do more than simply tell the story; they speak volumes about modern America, the hope of youth, and morality. And it’s a tribute to the Coens that they make these subtle conclusions without having characters mutter indicating dialogue, and that once proven, they resist the urge to show something as corny as an American flag covered in dirt. The film is a rewarding experience for the trained eye, and even if the subtleties will be unapparent to some, the literal story remains incredibly entertaining. I felt engulfed in the characters and the scenery in a way that I haven’t felt since I was a kid; I felt like I was at the movies.

And there is so much more to compliment about this film. How about the first act? Pure visual storytelling that somehow keeps you on the edge of your seat. How about the lack of music, which weaker films employ to persuade emotions? How about the tension and suspense? And Roger Deakins’ beautiful cinematography. And man oh man the performances: Bardem’s Chigurh toting a can of compressed air is one of the most fearful images I’ve ever seen; Tommy Lee Jones conveys so much with a simple stare, and I hope he gets an Oscar nomination; Josh Brolin may be ignored based on a lack of dialogue, but his movement in space and the way he communicates with his eyes keeps you engaged during the longest lapses of dialogue.

I don’t like every film the Coens ...