YOU’RE A SON OF A BITCH, TOM

Geniuses they may be, but I fear the Coen Bros could spend the next one hundred years making movies and they'd never repeat the unique magic of what in my opinion is their greatest film, ‘Miller's Crossing’ (1990).

With a plot as perfectly designed as ‘Casablanca’, dialogue as snappy and witty as any from a Billy Wilder or Howard Hawks film, and with a wholly original visual aesthetic (greens, reds and dark browns) that brings a warmth to the gangster noir genre that I'd never seen before, ‘Miller's Crossing‘ simply has no apparent flaws to my mind.

To say nothing of that most human and heartfelt movie score by film composer Carter Burwell, who adapts the traditional Irish folk ballad 'Lament for Limerick' and turns it into something truly epic and unforgettable.

Tom Reagan : If I'd known we were gonna cast our feelings into words, I'd've memorized the Song of Solomon.

But when it comes down to it, the heart of the film for me has to be Gabriel Byrne's performance as Tom Reagan, a man who dreams of losing his hat, but ends up losing much more. A loyal consigliere to his gangster boss Leo (Albert Finney), the entire plot could be seen as a repressed love story between these two men who struggle to say they love each other, until it's too late. The entire fate of the town is turned upside down as a consequence of their mutual pig headedness and a violent civil war erupts around them, sparing few in its wake.

Tom Reagan : Think about what protecting Bernie gets us. Think about what offending Caspar loses us.

Leo : Oh, come on, Tommy. You know I don't like to think.

Tom Reagan : Yeah. Well, think about whether you should start.

Byrne as Tom manages to be enigmatic, funny, sly, vulnerable and an ice cold killer all at once, such are the many layers to his character, which is surely all credit to the Coen's amazing work on characterisation and overall screenplay brilliance which they have become deservedly world-reknowned for.

In some ways Tom reminds me of Bogart's Rick, only the stakes are more provincial in ‘Miller's Crossing’ than in ‘Casablanca’. The fascinating thing about both men, though, is that they try and conceal their emotions behind a tough facade, but deep down, we sense they hurt as much as the rest of us. Cynicism is the mask they both deploy to survive and stay in the game of life. Occasionally it slips and we soon realise they are more like us that we may have imagined from the initial scenes of wise cracks, bravado and whiskey.

Tom's concern for Leo is almost like that of a patriarch at times, at others more a loyal servant. He often appears to see his boss as a big kid who needs reigning in, unable to strategise or calulate the risk his enemies pose toward him and his fragile empire.

Leo is a feelings kind of a guy with an impetuosity that Tom resists. Between the two of them, they would make a perfect couple if it wasn't for the fact they're in love with the same woman, Verna (Marcia Gay Harden).

It just so happens that there are at least three variations of love triangles in this classic movie, which is yet again, further proof to me of the genius of the film's multi-layered plot. However, it's the central one that is most pivotal to the narrative bookends, that of Tom, Leo and Verna, which ironically is the only one that is ultimately resolved peacefully in the end.

Love triangles are hard to pull off in writing terms; one character always tends to invite more sympathy than the others, but in ‘Miller's Crossing’ the balance is perfectly judged and we understand all three parties involved and their motivations.

With Leo, loyalty is key, for Verna, it's security.

And for Tom, well, maybe he's just afraid of getting too close to anyone, for fear he might get hurt.