This year marks the 30th anniversary of the Release of the Coen Brothers film Barton Fink, which has always been one of my favorite films. There are so many subtexts in the film that every interpretation is unlikely to convince everyone. After all, the coen brothers' work is characterized by the fact that it cannot be described in one sentence or summarized by a single thematic idea.
If you haven't seen Barton Fink yet, or watched it once a few years ago, then I suggest you stop there now; This article is intended for fans who have already seen the film and thought about its storyline and its myriad implications. And this article is full of spoilers and reads like a plot review, so if you'd like to see a more in-depth, more like a film review article, then I'm sorry I let you down.
Barton Fink, released in 1991, is the Coen brothers' fourth film after Miller's Crossroads. If you want to understand Miller's Crossroads and understand its aspects and intricacies, you'll need to watch it many times, and in the process you'll understand how complex its plot is.
In fact, it was precisely because Miller's Crossroads was so complex that the Coen brothers ran out of brains during the process of writing the script, and they interrupted for a while before completing the script. It was during this time that Barton Fink was born. It is worth mentioning that the Coen brothers used film as a medium of interpretation; So the story and imagery of Barton Fink may be metaphors or allegories of many things.
You may see interpretations that the film reflects the dangers of living in one's own inner world, while others think that Charlie Meadows (John Goodman) represents Nazism and Fink represents weak left-wing liberalism. There are also those who believe that the film expresses an indictment of the vertically integrated system of old Hollywood.
In fact, in the style of the Coen brothers, the film may contain all of the above statements, or have various different meanings depending on the viewer's perspective. Symbolism and subtext are prevalent in Barton Fink, and some may think that there is no need to over-interpret a movie, but the Coen brothers have very eloquently proved that good movies can stand up to interpretation, and this is undeniably the coen brothers' author mark.
There's no doubt that Barton Fink is a Coen Brothers movie. Many authors believe in "writing what you're familiar with." That's not to say that if you've worked in a supermarket all your life, you have to write about working in a supermarket, but if you've never suffered from depression, it's not appropriate to write about depression. A true author's work, whether in context or plot, should contain first-hand experiences that the author has personally experienced.
Although Barton Fink is set in los Angeles in 1941, and the plot of act three is full of fantasy, I can imagine that most of the emotions are directly derived from the painful experience of the Coen brothers when they wrote the script for Miller's Crossroads.
Barton Fink (John Tetorro), the protagonist of Barton Fink, is a bold, trendy New York playwright. After the success of his latest play, Bare Ruined Choirs, his agent told him he had received an offer from Hollywood. Based on his recent fame, Congress Pictures wanted to sign him to a $1,000 a weekly screenwriting contract.
Barton, who was obsessed with art, initially objected. But something, whether it's a fixed salary or a bigger stage call, made him give up his artistic integrity in favor of Hollywood. This hypocritical shift, which led him to Los Angeles to live in the dilapidated Earl Hotel, also foreshadowed many of the things that would happen after Fink fell into creative difficulties.
At the Earl Hotel, Barton created himself a purgatory of humanity. He put aside the outside world and strived to create a seemingly quiet and comfortable environment; The result was to endure suffocating heat, the thick melting glue on the peeling wallpaper, and the danger of being bitten by mosquitoes — though Producer Ben Geisler (Tony Sharkhob), a fast-talking, high-legged producer, disagreed with Barton, pointing out that Los Angeles had no mosquitoes at all because the city was in a desert.
Meanwhile, Barton's creative cells are destroyed from all angles by different people around him. As soon as the studio owner Lipnick met him, he arranged a B-grade movie that didn't require much creativity, leaving him speechless; Barton's admired novelist, W.P. Maysho, slowly deconstructed his romantic fantasies in his writing, and was utterly outraged when he heard Audrey, Mayhue's long-tormented secretary, reveal that Mayhue's work was actually ghostwritten by her.
Patton is driven mad by his own ideals, which are slowly being distorted and molded into something that is more acceptable and replaceable to Hollywood tastes. Barton believed that by abandoning more expensive living arrangements and staying at the Earl Hotel, he would be able to maintain contact with the general public, his source of inspiration.
But when he hears Charlie, who lives next door and claims to be an insurance salesman, laughing or crying (also deliberately vague in the script), his writing is disturbed, so he calls the front desk to complain. Obviously, he doesn't really sympathize with the average person he sees as a source of inspiration for his creations, does he?
When he has the opportunity to experience the joys or pains of ordinary people, he would rather call the other person to quiet down than share the joys and sorrows of the other party. After a while, when Charlie confronted him, Barton flinched, at first he did not understand the temperament of the giant man in front of him, but the two soon formed a "one-sided" relationship.
When Charlie learns that Patton is writing the screenplay and tries to give him inspiration, he repeatedly says "I can tell you some stories", but Patton refuses to listen and interrupts him before Charlie can speak. Barton spoke incessantly about his artistic pursuits and achievements, reiterating his determination not to allow his work to be "insensitive and regressive to empty formalism."
Although Barton assured himself and others that he would remain one with the general public, he was indifferent to their plight. In fact, he seemed to consider himself more noble than all of them combined.
The soldiers who defended the country and guarded the border were always awe-inspiring, but Patton, who was ecstatic after completing the script, felt that he was more qualified to dance with beautiful women at a dance organized by the Labor Army than the Marines who were going to go to sea the next day.
"I'm a writer!" He shouted, "I'm creative!" Barton seems to feel that life should imitate his work, not his work imitating life.
Barton Fink frequently mentions human heads, usually from Charlie Meadows ("Can't give me a new head", "You have a good head", "Everything in your head is a mess"). Fink lives in the spirit world, and Charlie repeatedly shouts as he shoots Doic and Detective Mastriotti, "Let me see my inner world!" ”
In many ways, it feels like the Coen brothers are directing us to the subtext they set; The room in Fink is eerily devoid of realistic logic, as if the Earl Hotel represents Fink's inner self (and the cage he imposed on himself by accepting Wallace Billy's films), and the room represents his thoughts.
Are the Coen Brothers illustrating through the Earl Hotel that experiencing life from the heart is often painful and even dangerous for one's intellect?
Barton Fink has many similarities with the themes explored by Roman Polanski, especially in his films The Strange Lodger and Cold-Blooded Horrors; The protagonist's residence also reflects their madness in some way, becoming an abstract character similar in tone to the Earl Hotel in Barton Fink.
If we accept that the Earl Hotel symbolizes Barton Fink's inner self, then this implies that Charlie Meadows is a product of Barton's spiritual world. The next reading begins to move toward metaphysics. Patton ignored the story Charlie tried to tell him when they first met, but if Charlie imagined it, didn't that mean That Patton was ignoring his own story?
Patton metaphorically tries to shield his inner voice, just to create something that is more acceptable to Wallace Billy's audience? This happens almost every day at the bottom of Hollywood: a young screenwriter is full of ideas that resonate, but is tempted by fame and fortune to sacrifice his principles.
There's one notable subliminal evidence to support this claim: The night before Barton complained about the noise in Charlie's room, he heard a high-pitched, hoarse sound from the next door that sounded very similar to Charlie's laughter/crying. Later, Barton discovers that Audrey is dead, and as a subconscious response to stress, he himself makes the same sound. The screenplay describes him trying to restrain himself from shouting.
Is Charlie an aspect of Patton's own personality? Or does it exist only in his spiritual world?
The word "Hell" appears in the movies, still mostly from Meadows, giving him a demonic connotation, especially after we discover that he likes to chop off his head and can spew flames behind him. When Meadows (whose true identity is revealed to be "Mad Monte") appears in the final climax, the hotel catches fire, so many say that Meadows should represent the devil.
This claim is certainly not unfounded, but it seems to me that there is a deeper meaning. Meadows is a demon, but he's not just a demon. He may be the devil in Fink's heart; It is a visual representation of the source of Fink's story, as well as a violent reaction to the suppression of self-expression.
Is this whole relationship also a self-perpetuating metaphor that reflects Cohen's disappointment with those who want them to sacrifice their artistic integrity?
During Barton's trip to Hollywood, he meets several traditional roles: the troubled alcoholic writer Maysho; Audrey, who is almost red-faced; There are also two cold-hearted Los Angeles detectives, Doic and Mastrio Norty.
As Charlie dominates the relationship between the two, Fink rejects the men one by one; Despite being considered an accomplice to the serial murders, Barton suddenly had creative inspiration and quickly completed his script. But what did his career cost? Under Charlie's mental control, his script was too elegant, too sharp, too artistic for Hollywood.
If we look at the story from this perspective, Barton Fink reads like an outcry from an outcry from an angry artist about the creative lose-lose that is often associated with Hollywood. With the Coen Brothers' consistent authorship, it's hard to tell who is real, who is imagined, and who was actually killed in this film.
It's definitely one of my favorite interpretations, but there's another, more succinct way of saying about the relationship between Barton and Charlie. Simply put, Patton is a hypocritical, conceited writer who lives in Hollywood, and he lives next door to a psychopathic serial killer. Despite their initial verbal altercation, Charlie regarded Patton as his best new friend, and he was impressed by the fact that Barton wrote the screenplay for the studio.
Charlie falls in love with Patton in a way, and there is a distinctly gay tinge in their friendship, especially in the scene where he demonstrates his wrestling skills, where he looks backwards on all fours, smiling and encouraging Barton; Barton gently rested his head on Charlie's shoulder and hugged him tightly.
In a 2001 interview, Joel Cohen said, "We think it's a sex scene." Throughout the film, both characters express their opinions about the old hotel walls being too thin and the sound coming from the sewer pipes. In discussing the sound of sex coming from another room the night before, the sexual repression of the two men could be clearly felt.
Fink gave up relationships for his art and couldn't maintain a normal relationship (he told Charlie that he was so focused on creating that he had no other energy). Charlie talks a lot about his sexual charisma with clients, but we can fully believe he's lying; He probably said this to make a good impression on Patton.
The more likely reality is that Charlie's weight is holding him back from pursuing love, and maybe that's why he seems so unhappy when he hears sex next door. That kind of recognition, that kind of lowly interpersonal interaction was all he needed, but he always found himself alone on the other side of the wall. Like he said to Patton, this was the pain he deserved.
From this point of view, Meadows was just a serial killer, most likely a Nazi supporter (he said the phrase "Long live Hitler" before killing the second detective); Loneliness drove him crazy, and he desperately tried to engage with Patton. He tried to be Patton's inspiration, to inspire him, and even to show off his knowledge of wrestling, but Barton remained largely indifferent to Charlie's attentive initiative.
When the deadline approached, Barton did not accept the help of Charlie, an ordinary person who could help him mentally and professionally, but temporarily hugged his feet and asked Audrey for help. As a knife-catching writer, Audrey's biggest feature is that she knows how the script works, understands the dilemma of the screenwriter, and she is by no means an ordinary person.
When they make love, the camera shows us the sewers of Fink's bathroom; They were now the noise makers next door, and Charlie heard the painful gasps coming through the pipes and finally collapsed. What happened next, I don't need to say more.
Whenever I have a confusing ending, I tend to re-watch it. I've seen most of the Coen Brothers movies several times. In Barton Fink, it can be seen all the time that Barton stares at a painting hanging in his room: a beautiful woman sitting on the sea facing the sea. Barton often immersed himself in the painting, incorporating the sound of the waves into the plot soundtrack.
This portrait of a beautiful seaside woman is apparently a mass-produced vulgar work of art that may have hung in every room at the Earl Hotel. As Barton became increasingly obsessed with the painting, he also tried to lower his artistic pursuits by trying to cater to Wallace Billy's audience (like fast and furious fans today).
The sea is a kind of white noise, which for me also represents the voice of the writer; Deadlines are looming, and the pressure of the overwhelming tide is rushing like a tidal wave, and almost every role that has influenced him has forced him to breathe.
Finally, after the carnage at the Earl Hotel, after Lipnick lashed out at his high-style, unappreciated script, Barton sat exhausted on the beach looking out at the sea. A woman came over and sat down in front of him, putting her hand on her eyes; The final shot accurately recreates the picture in the hotel room.
Fink was stunned, and this time the sound of the waves became a reality. And then the movie ends, and we're still immersed in it, wondering what it means.
It seems to me that The final point of Barton Fink is that life will eventually imitate art. To this day, the film has had a huge impact on audiences, conveying a power to instill ideas, argue and change ideas.
Doesn't that mean that filmmakers have some responsibility to their audiences? This power should not be used cynically, but rather to enhance the audience's appreciation. That's my interpretation of Barton Fink. Of course, there are many more aspects that I have not touched on.
Barton Fink is one of my favorite movies. Maybe it's because I often write something myself, and I feel some empathy for the protagonist, and every time I re-watch the film, I always find new room for thinking and inquiry.
As I mentioned earlier, the charm of the Coen brothers for me is that their films are not easy to read and tend to end in an unconventional, less satisfying way. This may upset a lot of people, but their films (especially Barton Fink) create a spiritual playground for brain-twisting audiences.
What's in that last box? What is the meaning of those shoes? Why do walls ooze glue? Are Audrey and Maysho real or imagined?
There is no doubt that this article will cause some people to argue. If you have a different interpretation of this movie, feel free to leave a message to share your insights.