The craziest Coen brothers theory ever: “It’s not exactly wrong”
As anyone might expect, the filmmakers who steadfastly refuse to explain the meaning behind their work are the ones who open themselves up to the most theorising, something Joel and Ethan Coen have been dealing with for over 40 years.
Much like David Lynch, who famously had no intention of spelling things out for his audience, the siblings have seen their filmography analysed, dissected, pored over, and picked apart since Blood Simple. Since they refuse to join the dots, others have shown themselves more than willing to pick up the baton.
One thing they will admit to, whether it’s in jest or rooted in at least some degree of truth, is that they spent their shared filmmaking career remaking The Wizard of Oz in perpetuity. Everything else is left open to interpretation, which has given rise to theories that range from the plausible to the bizarre.
No less an authority than Jeff Bridges has backed the suggestion that The Big Lebowski‘s Donny is merely a figment of Walter’s imagination, while many are adamant they claimed Fargo was based on a true story to critique the nature of deceit or that all of their films take place in one large, shared universe like Quentin Tarantino or Adam Sandler’s ouevre, although they debunked that one.
Just because the Coen brothers won’t confirm or deny the minutiae behind their pictures doesn’t mean they aren’t aware of the theorising. If anything, they enjoy keeping their ear to the ground and discovering what unexpected discussion points have emerged from their joint ventures, with one of them sticking in the memory more than most.
“Oh, there’s one I remember thinking, ‘Oh, that’s kind of nice,’ when somebody said it,” Ethan recalled to the Huffington Post when asked about the wildest theory they’d heard on one of their films. “You want to talk about surreal experiences. We were in Japan promoting Barton Fink.”
It wasn’t a place where the Coens expected to be pressured into revealing their secrets, but the inquiry fit nicely with the locale. “A journalist asked if John Goodman’s character was real,” Ethan continued, with Joel confirming they’d been quizzed on whether Charlie Meadows was “an imaginary character.”
The most obvious reading is that Meadows, or Karl ‘Madman’ Mundt as he’s later revealed to be, is exactly who he claims to be: a mild-mannered businessman who befriends John Turturro’s title character, albeit one who lives a double life as a psychotic serial killer with a fondness for shotguns and decapitation.
Of course, it’s easy to see why many are convinced he’s literally the devil, but that’s not how it was put to the Coens, who were asked if “he’s the spirit of the hotel, which is so Japanese.” In typical fashion, though, the enigmatic duo didn’t say it was beyond the realm of plausibility, leaving the door open for it to be an officially endorsed theory.
“You know, not inappropriate, and I said, ‘OK, that’s kind of nice,'” Ethan remembered. “What are you gonna tell them? You say no, you’re a killjoy. And you say yes. That’s not exactly true.” Interjecting, Joel poured fuel on the fires of Goodman becoming the accidental hub of the Coens’ universe of imaginary characters: “On the other hand, it’s not exactly wrong either.”
