I just watched the beginning of Fargo, the tv series.
The evil character in Fargo, played by Billy Bob Thornton,
is signalled as evil not so much by stabbing people or shooting them – no, his
evil is established when it seems that the usual matrix of cause and effect
fades when he is around. Normally, when a man goes into a basement with no
other access than the stairs, that man will have to go out using the stairs.
But, in a crucial scene in Fargo, the killer goes into the basement and
disappears, reappearing in a getaway car later on.
I think there are roughly two forms of evil in film. The one
is cosmological, and the sure sign of it is this fading of cause and effect.
When Scorcese redid Cape Fear with Robert DeNiro playing the bad guy, the
crucial moments in the film were all the result of this fading. This can, of
course, create startling effects: evil is in the room and is about to slice
somebody’s throat! The spectator’s visceral reaction is stimulated – hell, it is
shot through with a thousand volts.
But the first Cape Fear did evil differently. Robert Mitchum
played the evil man in terms of his slouch, his look, his accent – in terms, in
other words, of signs. Evil here is semiotic, not cosmic. There’s no fading of
cause and effect. When Mitchum lets his sleazy gaze travel over the daughter of
the lawyer he has marked out as his enemy (played by Gregory Peck in all his
iconic righteousness), that was the evil . If he murdered, raped, or
terrorized, it was all on the earthly plane. There was no fading of cause and
effect.
My preference is for semiotic evil – cosmic evil leaves me
feeling a little ripped off. Of course, sometimes the payload of visceral jolts
is nothing to sneeze at. But I am attached, like a peasant, to my cause and
effect.
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