Wendell: [Surveying the massacre in the desert crime scene] "It's a mess, ain't it, Sheriff?"
Ed Tom Bell: "If it ain't, it'll do till the mess gets here."
Both Fargo and No Country for Old Men are Coen Brothers crime dramas in which the engine that drives the narrative are vividly violent outbursts of criminal activity occurring early on. Among the other substantial differences in the way those narratives proceed are how each film perceives the future of the social conditions of the communities in which the violence takes place. Fargo moves in a fairly linear and relatively unambiguous fashion toward as close to a reset of how things were as possible. No Country for Old Men is far more pessimistic about how there is no going back as it weaves a strangely disjointed tale in which major plot points take place entirely off-screen and often without any reference to just what went down. The observation by the two law enforcement officers taking in the aftermath of the arrival of evil into their peaceful community is not just a recognition that it has arrived, but that it is not going anywhere any time soon.
“Don't put it in your pocket, sir. Don't put it in your pocket. It's your lucky quarter…Anywhere not in your pocket. Where it'll get mixed in with the others and become just a coin. Which it is.”
Chigurh is the story’s villain and that villainy is made all the more powerful by virtue of the fact that—somewhat akin to the Joker in The Dark Knight—he does not seem to be driven to commit criminal acts primarily for larcenous purposes. Oh, sure, he wants to be paid for a job well done and is willing to cross every rational borderline of behavior to retrieve it, but there is a strangeness to him that defies simple psychological profiling. The guy doesn't even spend thirty bucks getting a decent haircut. Those guys at the FBI who want to pin every serious murder on a thirty-five year old white male loner of higher than average intellect suffering from low self-esteem and a lack of conscience which they cover up with charm would be pulling their hair out trying to compile a psychological profile for this guy. He also seems to share a trait with another character from the Batman film; like Harvey Dent he has a propensity to trusting in the forces of luck that come with a simple coin flip. Unlike Dent, however, he doesn’t cheat. Like the Dude, Chigurh abides. He abides by his own moral code, however perverse that may be. Which it is.
“I always figured when I got older, God would sorta come inta my life somehow. And he didn't.”
Anton Chigurh is the villain, as previously stated. Sheriff Bell is not, however, the hero. In fact, there is no hero in the film. Chigurh is a killing machine who winds up being a victim of fate in a cosmic flip of the coin, but he survives, nonetheless. Which is more than can be said for every other major character in the story except the Sheriff. And here’s the kicker: Bell only manages to survive by not trying to be a hero. In fact, he barely even tries to carry out the most basic requirements of his job. Bell has seen evil arrive, but already knew it was coming. Good isn’t. The best that can be hoped for is that not everyone falls victim to the malevolence.
“What you got ain't nothin' new. This country's hard on people. You can't stop what's coming. It ain't all waiting on you. That's vanity.”
Ellis was once a lawman like Ed Tom and also happens to be his uncle. He’s been around a long time and seen a lot of things. He recognizes that the arrival of Anton Chigurh and the trail of destruction and devastation he leaves in his malevolent wake has fundamentally impacted Bell in a way that that certain cases have a way of impacting cops. Bell is heading toward flat-out nihilistic loss of all faith in humanity and even the possibility of goodness unless he gets out of the business. His uncle lays it on the line; Chigurh isn’t anything new or notable, but he did just happen to arrive at the worst possible moment for many people.
