THE BALLAD OF BUSTER SCRUGGS (2018) ** ½

The Coen Brothers’ The Ballad of Buster Scruggs is their first Netflix movie.  It might also be the first western anthology ever made.  It’s the first one I’ve seen at any rate.  Like most anthologies, it’s almost doomed from the start because of the uneven structure of the genre.  However, there’s some real gold to be found here.

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs (****) Buster Scruggs (Tim Blake Nelson) looks like an aimable, unassuming goofball, but he’s also a crack shot quickdraw gunfighter.  In addition to shooting people, he loves singing and narrating the events of his life.  In fact, nothing, even death can stop him from his longwinded narration.

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs (the story, not the whole movie) is probably the best thing the Coens have ever done.  It is a hilarious and surprising ode to Roy Rogers and Sam Peckinpah in which the sadistic outbursts of violence are almost as funny as Nelson’s performance.  This segment allows the Coens to take their penchant for creating colorful characters with peculiar dialogue patterns and their knack for sudden violence to the nth degree and they in turn create what has got to be the ultimate Coen Brothers creation.  

Near Algodones (***) James Franco stars as a bandit who tries to rob a bank.  He doesn’t count on the armor-plated teller (Stephen Root) and his devotion to the bank’s security.  As he is about to be hung for his crime, the bandit, through a set of unlikely circumstances, goes out of the frying pan and into the fire.

This tale has a great set-up and a strong middle section, but it ends much too abruptly (albeit fittingly).  Personally, I would’ve liked to have seen this sequence expanded upon.  It would’ve been nice to have had Franco’s character fleshed out a bit more.  It would’ve given the final scene a bit more impact, instead of just a taste of (literal) gallows humor.

Meal Ticket (** ½) A man (Liam Neeson) runs a small traveling sideshow.  The star of the show is a quadruple amputee (Harry Melling) who performs everything from the works of William Shakespeare to the speeches of Abraham Lincoln.  Eventually, he realizes the show can’t go on forever.

Wow.  This one is just bleak and depressing.  It’s well-realized and the art direction is excellent, but like the previous tale, it’s all too brief.  This is another one that would’ve benefited from a longer running time.  It earns points for being relentlessly grim, but the payoff (although inevitable) isn’t quite as effective as it could’ve been.  

All Gold Canyon (*** ½) An old prospector (Tom Waits) makes his way through the countryside looking for gold.  Through many ups and downs, he finally strikes it rich.  Almost immediately, he’s forced to defend his claim at any cost.

This tale perfectly shows us the loneliness and isolation of the Old West.  The grizzled Waits fits right into the Coens universe, so much so that you have to wonder why it took them so long to cast him in one of their movies.  Waits endears himself to the audience and when it comes time for him to protect his gold, we wholeheartedly root for him.  This also has the distinction of being one of the most uplifting stories in the lot, which is nice, because the last two tales are utterly depressing and/or dull.  

The Gal Who Got Rattled (**) Zoe Kazan goes out on the Oregon Trail with her brother to meet her future fiancée.  Along the way, she has to deal with the death of her brother, the possibility of putting down her dog, and the prospect of being cheated out of her money by a scoundrel wagon master.  A handsome cowpoke (Bill Heck) offers to help her by proposing marriage, but that might not be enough to save her doomed voyage.  

This one moves at an ambling pace.  It also lacks the sharp humor of the other stories.  The ironic ending doesn’t quite work as well as in the other tales either, mostly because of its drawn-out nature.  The performances by Heck and Kazan are solid, but they are unable to elevate this solemn, slow-moving sequence.

The Mortal Remains (**) A stagecoach carrying a handful of passengers pushes on toward the frontier.  The passengers pass the time by having rambling conversations and generally getting on each other’s nerves.  It soon becomes apparent that two of the passengers aren’t who they seem.  

The talky nature and claustrophobic setting help to drag this story down and end things on a down note.  That’s not to say there aren’t some good moments here.  I particularly liked Chelcie Ross as the talkative trapper who goes on and on about people being like “ferrets”.  The twist ending is a bit obvious (especially if you’ve seen Dr. Terror’s House of Horrors), but like most of the stories here, it ultimately comes off a bit slight.

Like most anthologies, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs is uneven and fitfully amusing.  It serves to sketch for the audience the harshness of frontier life as well as the sudden outbursts of violence that hallmarked the Wild West.  Most of the stories end with a big death scene, which shows the arbitrary nature of life and death.  I can’t say it’s entirely successful, but the first segment alone just about makes it worthwhile.