Review of Barton Fink (1991) by Edward K — 22 Jun 2012

Watching the Cohen brothers' film Barton Fink is an experience that can best be described being the uncomfortable observer of a headache. The early 40s retro mood of the film is evoked by the sweltering heat, varnished wood, and peeling wall paper of Barton's decaying hotel room while he attempts to create a screenplay from the detritus of his surroundings.

While others have described the film in terms of surrealism or being pregnant with symbolism, which might well be the intention of the film's creators, such artistic embellishments do not raise the stories content much above an illustration of a disturbed dream sequence in which the actors move mechanically through their parts as if they themselves were rehearsing the screenplay aloud.

You feel no sympathy for any of the victims much the same as if a cartoon character were being killed. Don't get me wrong, this film is an artistic creation but it's just too much of the same thing which turns into prolonged scenery.

The trapped feeling that you get is as if you stood too long in front of an interesting painting at the museum.