DVD/Blu-Ray Mini-Review - The Sisters Brothers (15)

We're the Sisters Brothers. The Sisters Brothers. Both of us.

The Gist: In 1850s Oregon Eli and Charlie Sisters (John C. Reilly and Joaquin Phoenix) work as assassins for a mysterious businessman referred to only as The Commodore. Their reputation precedes them, not least for prospector and chemist Hermann Kermit Warm (Riz Ahmed), whose formula for locating gold the Commodore means to possess by whatever unpleasant means. The Brothers pursue Warm and his new companion John Morris (Jake Gyllenhall) the length of the State, but Charlie's behaviour is becoming ever more reckless, while Eli is having a crisis regarding the duo's long-term prospects in a violent profession. Just how long can they keep killing for a living?

The Juice: Adapted from Canadian Patrick DeWitt's novel of the same name, and by Frenchman Jacques Audiard who also directed, The Sisters Brothers is a skewed homage to the classic American western. The mountains and grasslands are shot with the same sunlit lushness as last year's Hostiles, and the familiar locations of prairie homestead, fire-lit campsite and saloon are in place - but there's also the strangeness of a tale told by outsiders looking in. It's there in some of the places the brothers visit once they reach the civilisation of big-city California. It's in the characters the brothers meet along the way and at the culmination of their quest, not least the oddball pairing of Gyllenhall and Ahmed. And it's most apparent in the unpredictability of a tale you find out you really haven't seen before. This story refuses to do anything you expect. That includes the portrayal of the brothers themselves. The spasmodic violence of Phoenix's younger Sister belies his damaged soul, while Reilly's big brother Eli is protective and quietly philosophical with a broad sentimental streak (he impresses here just as much as he did in Stan and Ollie). 

The Judgement: 8/10. There's much that's recognisable as a traditional frontier tale here, including sporadic outbursts of violence. However The Sisters Brothers has an ambience all its own - macabre and darkly humorous, but also melancholic and strangely touching. With a central quartet of fine performances, plus that distinctive directorial vision, it's a welcome addition to the growing pool of fine 21st century revisionist westerns.

Netflix Mini-Review - The Ballad of Buster Scruggs (15)

I got to set myself up in the undertakin' business. Stop doin' all the skill work so another man can profit.

The Gist: The ballad in question makes up one sixth of this western anthology from Joel and Ethan Coen. Yes - half a dozen tales of America's 19th century New Frontier are told here, as though we're leafing through the same beautifully bound and archaic volume of stories. It begins with Buster Scruggs himself (Tim Blake Nelson), a singing cowboy who's lethally quick on the draw. Scruggs' tunefully violent adventure preps us for what's in store... The tone may vary, but these narratives - whether of a bank robber's bad day, an obsessive gold prospector or a slow-burn wagon train romance - are all heavy with mortality and a sense of how brutally unpredictable life can be. 

The Juice: This is the American West, Coen Brothers style, and it helps to be savvy regarding that style going in. For thirty-five years this fraternal duo has been making movies about movies - their tales part parody, part homage to existing film genres, but never without an eccentricity all their own. The classic westerns of Howard Hawks and John Ford (shot through with the flinch-worthy violence of Sam Peckinpah) provide their starting point here. A Best Original Screenplay nomination at this year's Oscars was well-earned; The Ballad of Buster Scruggs has all the wit, pith and philosophy that Coen fans will expect, their relish in the western idiom resulting in dialogue chewy as tobacco from an idiosyncratic cast of characters. Their command of storytelling is on full display too - both in some tales' sense of fatalism and the blindsiding twists of others. As ever there's a formidable battery of acting talent, with Nelson's eponymous sharp-shooter, Zoe Kazan's demure spinster and Tom Waits' mad-eyed prospector only three gems among many. Add to that cinematographer Bruno Delbonnel's eye for those rugged locations and Carter Burwell's elegaic score and you have yourself one well-honed compendium of Wild West fiction, skewed by that unmistakable Ethan&Joel style. 

The Judgement: 8.5/10. While it starts off like one of the Coens' more lightweight offerings (the actual Buster Scruggs bit is an extended albeit hilarious joke), this deepens and darkens as it proceeds, gaining ever-greater dramatic weight. The storybook West is a perfect backdrop for this meditation on human frailty, with the final two tales - one sober, one grimly funny - bringing the point home. It's unforgiving stuff, but redeemed by intelligence, humour and the sheer craft on display. Coens and cowboys - they were destined to make great art together, even if it's resolutely downbeat. Saddle up for a bumpy cross-prairie ride.