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Establish a sense of place
The Coens have been called “regional filmmakers,” which isn’t strictly true since their settings have ranged from New York to the southwestern desert to Los Angeles and beyond. But it’s certainly true in the sense that no matter where their films take place, it would be hard to imagine them taking place anywhere else. In their hands, landscape almost becomes a character in itself. This is maybe most obvious in “Fargo,” where the comically exaggerated Minnesota accent and the stark cold white of a Minnesota winter are an essential part of the film’s flavor. And the harsh, scorchingly hot brushland we see at the beginning of “No Country For Old Men” paints an exacting picture of the movie’s title phrase.

Don’t be afraid to change your methods
“No Country For Old Men” fits neatly into the Coens’ serious crime stories, but it also takes a couple of significant steps away from their standard recipe. They’ve expertly used music to enhance their previous movies — especially in “O Brother, Where Art Thou,” where the lavish soundtrack of 1930s folk and blues was a catalyst for a huge popular revival of the styles. But “No Country” has very little music in it at all, with only 16 minutes of music in a film more than two hours long, and that includes the end titles.

Instead, it derives a lot of its power from long stretches of silence or ambient sound. The Coens also broke with tradition by bringing in a cast that had, for the most part, never worked with the Coens before. (The only returning actor was Stephen Root, who’d previously been in “The Ladykillers” and “O Brother”). It’s hard to argue with either decision, particularly the casting of Tommy Lee Jones as a small-town Texas sheriff and Javier Bardem as a monomaniacal killer with a cattle gun.

Get the final cut
“Runnin’ things… it ain’t all gravy!” grouses beleaguered mobster Johnny Caspar in “Miller’s Crossing” after he discovers just how hard it is to be top dog. It’s an especially ironic line for the Coens, who have directed, written and produced all their own movies since the beginning of their careers. The Coens are sticklers for their specific vision — while they give their actors room to improvise when it’s called for, they’ve also been known to insist that the dialogue in their scripts be followed to the comma.

With other directors that might be ego, but the Coens know what they excel in (see point No. 1), and their ear for language is remarkable. And under the pseudonym “Roderick Jaynes,” they’ve also had final say in the editing room — in some ways, that’s the most important role in moviemaking, because the editor controls how the previous elements are actually put together. Even when one of their movies misfires, like “Hudsucker,” at least it misfires in their particular style; and control of their stories is ultimately why the Coen brothers have had so many more successes than failures.

Christopher Bahn is a freelancer writer in Minneapolis.

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