Snow
One of the unsung bits of irony in the film is that even had Marge not just happened to drive past that car was she was looking for, it is highly unlikely that the crime would have gone unsolved. Keep in mind that Fargo has a ridiculously high body count for a film often referred to as a comedy. And of that body count, a substantial number occur not just out in the open, but in the snow. Snow can conceal, but it can also reveal. And unless it is actually snowing, it usually works better as an agency of revelation. An awful lot of snow is on the ground in the outdoor scenes in Fargo, but it never seems to be actually snowing. An awful of attempts at concealment are made in Fargo, but except for Carl’s burying the ransom money, none of it seems to work. As an agency of revelation, the snow is going to be almost as great an enemy to the kidnappers getting away with it as they are themselves. They may briefly be able to conceal their whereabouts, but all that blood spilled into pure white snow is bound to leave a trail leading straight to them.
Animals
There is an often lot of inhumanity on display in Fargo and this absence is ironically underscored by a pervasive presence of animals in almost every imaginable way. Marge watches a documentary about beetles on TV shortly after handing a bag of nightcrawlers to her husband. When one of the hookers tells Marge she’s from White Bear Lake, she adds a cheerleader-esque “Go Bears!” Wade Gustasfon has to be reminded that negotiating his daughter’s kidnap ransom is not “horse-trading.” And of course, the film ends with Marge being told by her husband that his drawing of a duck has been picked to appear on the 3-cent stamp. Animals are everywhere in the movie as a symbolic reminder of the inhumanity of so many of the characters.
Television
Television is so omnipresent throughout the film that it functions as imagery, but in one particular case it is manifestly used as a definite symbol. When Jerry returns to home for the first time following the abduction of his wife that he’s orchestrated, he looks at the window which Carl smashed in order to gain entry. Having already established a connection between how his wife watches TV and how she reacts the presence of Carl on the other side of the window, this metaphor is cemented by the image of the TV at that moment: just snowy static with all previous signs of life snuffed out.
Landscape
The Minnesota shown in the film looks more like something out of Kansas or Nebraska: long stretches of empty landscape shorn of trees, shrubs and nary a one of the state’s famous 10,000 lakes. Minnesota is actually a quite varied state, topographically speaking, but here everything looks the same. The stretches of empty space that highways connect are practically indistinguishable from the parking lots in the city. It is a bleak, desolate place…much like the bleak, desolate place inside the inhuman souls of many of its characters.
Mike Yanagita
The old high school friend with whom Marge shares a meal while in the big city is often pointed to as the most confusing scene in the film. He is introduced and then quickly disposed of without seeming to impact the plot. (In fact, he has a huge impact on the plot; see elsewhere in this study guide.) As a symbol, however, he is pretty much easy to figure out: he represents how this universe of the Coen Brothers is not what it seems. He’s a liar, a manipulator, loser, a sad sack, possibly psychotic and certainly not to be trusted as not being psychotic. And, of course, unless you live there, you can’t help but be shocked at the disparity between his obviously Asian looks and that seemingly whites-only over-the-top Midwestern accent. He is not just a symbol of not judging a book by its cover; he is the veritable cover itself. And he cover speaks just about every character and every scene in the movie.
