Thoughts on Barton Fink

I've seen this film a number of times and it never fails to mesmerise me. It is possibly the Coen Brothers' densest and enigmatic film.At the same time it's very, very funny. Here are some thoughts on it.

The title character, Barton Fink, is a Jewish playwright of social realism. A hyper-sensitive neurotic, his prerogative is to write plays "for the common man." But this is where the dramatic irony comes in. When in the presence of such people, he is cajey and disrespectful.

But one of the things that works most beautiful is how the Coens' show how such intellectual preconceptions can lead to grievous discrepancies. Upon the enormous success of one of his plays at Broadway, Fink moves to Hollywood. In the hotel he stays at, his neighbour is one such 'common man.'

Played by John Goodman, Barton is initially irritated by his presence as he wants to work on the screenplay he has been assigned. When they talk, Barton constatly ignores what Charlie has to say, babbling on and on about the supreme importance of the "common man."

As time wears on, they get on good terms. Barton has always thought that Charlie is a run-of-the mill hard-working guy. He has this intellectual formula he applies to these people, so he equates him as such. But he is very wrong; Charlie Meadows is a serial killer, who decapitates his victims.

Another obvious theme at work is writer's block. Barton thinks he's too dignified to sell out for Hollywood, but he does so anyway. The thing is that he doesn't realise how little talent he really has. Arrogantly assuming that he is God's gift, when he is asked to write a wrestling picture, he is unable to fulfil the requiste. He churns out another social realist drama, to the bafflement of the Hollywood hierarchy.

The film is set in the commencement of the second world war. When Charlie shoots one of his persecutors to death, he utters "Hiel Hitler." Barton of course thinks grandly of the 'common man', but he doesn't realise that, at the time, facism was wide-spread. A member of the left-wing elite, and a Jew, he obviously deplores the idea. But he doesn't realise that his great friend, the common man, is a buddy of the Fuhrer.

I can't write this post without mentioning William Faulkner. If you have read this blog in the past, you probably know I'm a big fan. His apperance in the film is something that lends it historical accuracy. Faulkner worked in Hollywood as a screenplay writer and, like in the film, was an alcoholic. Though, unlike the film, he wrote his own novels! However unfair that may seem, this once more reveals the deluded mind of Barton. For him the Faulkner character is someone to be praised and adulated; yet the reality is that he is a fraud who doesn't write his own material.

The Coens insist there is no symbolism at work in the film. Everything is there for ambiguity's sake. For me, the greatest moment is the ending dream sequence. Barton is on the beach, carrying a box containing the severed head of his deceased lover. He sees a beautiful woman walk past. "You're very beautiful. Do you work at the movies?" "Don't be silly." She kneels down in front of him, as the waves tide in. It's all strangely moving and affecting.