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I live in a city where it snows maybe once in a hundred years, and that's fine by me because I'm not keen on the frozen white stuff. I don't mind seeing it in the movies though, especially if it's in a film as good as Fargo.
Car salesman Jerry Lundegaard (William H. Macy) is a weak man. No one respects him—not his work colleagues, not his teenage son, and certainly not his overbearing father-in-law. In addition to being weak, Jerry's also desperate. Unexplained money problems are forcing him to take drastic action. Via a friend of a friend of a friend, he hires two small-time crooks, Carl and Gaear (Steve Buscemi and Peter Stormare), to kidnap his wife. He then plans to ask her wealthy father for the ransom, which he'll keep for himself. But the would-be kidnappers aren't too smart, and whilst escaping with Jerry's wife they're stopped by the police. Shots are fired and bodies are left behind. Enter local law-enforcement officer Marge Gunderson (Frances McDormand), who sets about investigating the triple homicide with a slow but steady doggedness.
Fargo is a film of contrasts. On the one hand there's Marge, a caring, motherly type who's loved by all; and in the opposite corner there's everyone else. It's hard to feel sorry for Jerry, as all of his problems seem self-inflicted. Gaear is just downright mean, and one of the scariest screen villains I've ever seen. Carl is a lot like Jerry, a desperate little man trying to play in the big league, but struggling way out of his depth. It's this mix of characters that gives Fargo its strength. There's not a poor performance from anyone. Even the bit players who get to say not much more than “he was kinda' funny lookin” do so with what feels like an unscripted realism.
If you're a bit squeamish though, Fargo might test your fortitude (especially the wood-chipper scene), as the violence is bloody and graphic. However this is balanced out by a character-driven humour that's sure to make you grin. Panoramic cinematography demonstrates how desolate Minnesota can be in the winter, but this bleakness makes a perfect setting for the story, like a play staged without many props. So even though I don't like snow, and there’s masses of the stuff in Fargo, I'm more than happy to put up with it in such a great film.
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