The Magnificent Six (Stories)
The Coen brothers have returned to the western after having done so well with 2010’s True Grit. Their latest, the Netflix film The Ballad of Buster Scruggs is an anthology based on a collection of short stories the brothers wrote over several years. The stories are filled with the kind of dark humor, bleak worldview, and occasionally over-the-top violence the Coens are known for, and though the stories are tonally inconsistent, they are each made with care and an attention to their respective atmospheres. It’s a wonderful collection of stories that’s not at all for the faint of heart.
The titular Ballad is the first story, following Tim Blake Nelson’s white-clad singing gunslinger who has absolutely no compunction about killing anyone who crosses him. It’s the funniest story of them all, as Buster Scruggs seems like the kind of cowboy dope the Coens had Alden Ehrenreich play so beautifully in Hail, Caesar!, though he proves to be a Tarantino-esque killing machine who happens to always wear a smile.
Second in line is the story of a bank robber (James Franco) who isn’t ready to face down a wily teller (Stephen Root), and who then must make his way through the aftermath, including a hanging gone awry. It’s not as outwardly comical as the first segment, but it is filled with the kind of biting irony the Coens excel at, and Franco gets an excellent last line.
The third story is the darkest, as Liam Neeson travels the cold, mountainous regions of the frontier as a kind of manager/caretaker for a quadruple amputee (Harry Melling, once upon a time known to most as Harry Potter’s selfish cousin Dudley) who performs dramatic readings of famous poems and speeches. It’s a brutal existence, especially as people seem to pay less and less for the performances, and the impresario is saddled with his talent all the same. This is a bleak story that reminded me of Tommy Lee Jones’ similarly dark The Homesman. There’s no happy ending, just continued existence in this harsh world.
The fourth tale finds prospector Tom Waits searching for gold in an idyllic valley populated only by the cute wide life. This is a mostly peaceful segment, and Waits is a pleasure to watch as he pans for gold and eventually works to find the source, what he calls “Mr. Pocket.“ There’s more to the story, as one would expect from the Coens, but I wouldn’t dare spoil it.
The longest segment follows a young woman (Zoe Kazan) in a wagon train who must sort out a handful of problems that arise along the way. I know that doesn’t sound particularly thrilling, but the story has some interesting turns from the get go, not to mention the presence of a little dog named President Pierce.
Last but not least is a character piece set almost entirely in a stagecoach, and featuring great turns from Tyne Daly, Saul Rubinek, Brendan Gleeson, Jonjo O’Neill, and Chelcie Ross. They play a lady, a Frenchman, an Irishman, an Englishman, and a fur trapper, respectively, swapping stories and perspectives on a ride into town at dusk. They’ve all got different journeys delivering them, and the story functions as a nice little mystery as the players begin asking each other too many questions.
I wouldn’t normally go to the trouble of summarizing so much, but these stories really do feel distinct despite being consistent in their creative voice. The Ballad of Buster Scruggs doesn’t exactly feel of a piece, but it is a collection of stories that feels right. It’s a variety of Cohen flavors in the Old West, and that’s something I’ll take any day.