The Utah Film Critics Association will vote on its “best of” 2009 this Thursday and I’ll be sure to post the results Thursday evening. Last year The Dark Knight was the UFCA’s choice for best picture. Frankly, I have my leanings, but I am clueless as to what our group will pick for 2009. In the meantime, check out the video below to see a rundown of AFI’s Best of 2009.

Award season is here, which means films that weren’t released wide or screened to critics may end up on our docket. It also means we’ll be posting reviews which aren’t as “timely”.

Instead of posting the full review and enduring the reprimands of the calendar conscious, we’ll post a cute little snippet. If you like what you see, you can choose your own adventure and click the blurb to read the whole thing.

Or don’t. What do we care.

Dan’s Take (C):

A Serious Man is a film asking for repeated viewings–all of which would continue to unwrap more insights– but whose initially dry deliberation intentionally creates a barrier to entry. A Serious Man is pinpoint accurate in its dour insight and poker-faced delivery (truly–there are perhaps a mild chuckle or two to be found here- nothing more), but in a world where most everyone’s had a year where they’ve absorbed as much abuse as Larry does, it’s just not that compelling.

Andy’s Take (D+):

…I appreciate the love and devotion given to the story and characters by the Coen brothers, but on the other, I just can’t recommend this picture to anyone who isn’t looking for the movie equivalent of a root canal or prostate exam.  Some will say I’m a killjoy with my assessment, but most of those beret-wearing snobs have their head buried so far up the ass of independent film they do cartwheels over cinema that borders on the sadomasochistic. Just because a film is labeled as art doesn’t mean it’s enjoyable. Such is the case with A Serious Man.

As is the Coen’s usual, A Serious Man brims with sociological ribbing. It’s a Jewish-themed parable, a dark comedy, an existential faith exploration, a look at good guys finishing last and a filmic high five to the concept that life sucks and then you die. But beyond the standard Coen quirk, it’s just not 110 minutes interesting.

Larry Gopnick (Michael Stuhlbarg) is a good guy. Unfortunately, a hundred years or so previous, his ancestors made the foolhardy decision of allowing a dybbuk– a wandering spirit– into their home. Thanks to the sins of his fathers, Larry is now destined to live a life duly cursed– a delinquent son, an unfaithful wife, legal woes, multi-faceted job drama, a car crash, a pathetic, live-in brother and a faith that isn’t doing much to help him make sense of it all. All this sandwiched between two neighbors: one a scary, gun-toting man’s man, the other a lonely and willing Cougar.

All the suburban bedlam is pure irony, as Larry spends all day transcribing incredibly complex equations explaining the order of the universe as a physics professor at a local university. Like a watered down, scriptural Job, Larry can’t explain his own chaos. He seeks counsel from an endless procession of rabbis who can’t explain it either, each resorting to various go-to religious cliches in the attempt.

The story unfolds by stacking one problem after the other, each shouting for attention in their freneticism. Larry’s only escapes are played out in increasingly vivid dreams where his id gets the better of him, but Larry is too interested in being the good guy– the civil guy– to take much action in real life. Even when Sy Ableman (Fred Melamed), the man who’s stolen Larry’s wife and seeks Larry’s support for religiously sanctioned divorce, suggests Larry leave his house so he can move in and make things “good for everyone”, Larry rolls over and acquiesces. He’s a hopeless cause really, and Larry labors through the abuse hoping for the best in a theologically underpinned ideal to be “a serious man” while resolutely taking all the beatings life has to offer.

The Coen brothers are in usual form here. Quirk abounds, “gotcha” violence is used as punctuation and characters are deadpan serious– all subtly played with light frivolity and an undercurrent of gallows gloom. Michael Stuhlbarg is believably funny and sympathetic in his portrayal of the perpetual good-guy schlub, but it’s the paint-drying equivalent of watching a dull life played out onscreen.

A Serious Man is a film asking for repeated viewings, but is also one whose initially dry deliberation intentionally creates a barrier to entry. A Serious Man is pinpoint accurate in its dour observation and poker-faced delivery (truly–there are perhaps a mild chuckle or two to be found here- nothing more), but in a world where most middle-agers have had a year spent absorbing as much abuse as Larry does, it’s just not that compelling.

A Serious Man has me at a crossroads. The more I reflect on it, the more I find to appreciate, but the initial viewing didn’t garner the same enthusiasm. And when the film abruptly ends amidst a literal whirlwind of portending doom while Jefferson Airplane asks “Don’t you want somebody to love, don’t you need somebody to love”, most viewers will probably answer by nodding their heads in agreement.

The story is about a Jewish professor living in a Minneapolis suburb, who, despite his best efforts to be a “serious man,” is plummeting headfirst into a mid-life crisis, most of which not by his choosing. His wife wants a divorce, his son and daughter are stealing money from him, his loser brother lives on his couch and he is further chagrined by his nudist female neighbor and a student at school trying to blackmail him for a good grade.

I don’t know about you, but I loved Burn After Reading, so this should be pure comedy bliss from the Coen boys.