“Yes or no?”
It’s a simple question — the answer kicks off a tight, tough, sexy TV adaptation of the 1990s’ Coen Brothers film Fargo that is so subtle, nuanced, clever and adult it’s a wonder it was ever conceived for the small screen.
Fargo is a prairie noir thriller set in the dead of winter in the flatlands of a fictional small town in Minnesota — not to be confused with the real-life city of Fargo in North Dakota. A drifter, Lorne Malvo, played with understated inscrutability and menace by Billy Bob Thornton, in what could potentially be the role of his career, finds himself in the waiting room of the local town clinic, sitting beside the town loser, an insurance salesman played with uncanny ability by Martin Freeman.
The loser, Lester Nygaard, is sporting the shiner to end all shiners, and Malvo is naturally curious.
“Is this you misunderstanding the other fella,” he asks in a laconic, Midwestern drawl, “or him misunderstanding you?”
Malvo listens with barely contained incredulity to a story — a tangled, halting tale involving high-school sweethearts, cheating wives, jilted lovers, the town bully and the town bully’s moronic, mouth-breathing, hockey-playing sons — that beggars belief.
“Mister, we’re not friends,” Malvo says, cutting Lester off in halting, stuttering mid-sentence. “I mean, maybe we will be. Some day. But I’ve got to say, if that were me in your position, I would have killed that guy.”
Hoo boy.
Malvo stays in town, in part because he seems to be a man with no place to go, and mostly because he’s a man comfortable in his own skin who doesn’t much care what others think. Besides, the local filling station-and-diner affords a good view of goings-on in town. Everyone has something to hide, and a sense of dark foreboding settles over the scene.
This Fargo is not an homage to the Coen Brothers’ film. It’s its own creation, with different characters and a cast of truly gifted actors giving it their all: Allison Tolman as a deputy sheriff with an innate curiosity about everyone and everything, and a natural gift for spotting out-of-place details; Colin Hanks as a young, dedicated career police officer about to learn how much he means to his young daughter; and veteran, homegrown character actors like Shawn Doyle and Brian Markinson, in pivotal roles, and performances to match.
Fargo, a 10-episode, limited series in the style of True Detective and American Horror Story, is filmed outside Calgary, and the production is impeccable, right down to the subtle, underplayed background music, the crisp clarity of ice crunching underfoot and the breathtaking cinematography. The real achievement of Fargo, however, is that it’s first and foremost one hell of a story, told simply and brilliantly.
There are moments here of visual poetry, shocking violence and sober reflection. Some of the most powerful, profound words in Fargo are left unspoken — a young wife learning about her husband’s death through a silent, tearful glance, the blank realization of a naive, well-intended man who suddenly realizes his words have been taken out of context, to terrible effect.
Fargo was filmed in Canada, but it’s a genuine slice of Americana, right down to the passion for guns and an unswerving sense of self-worth — as the framed picture in a rural home says, “What if you’re right and everyone else is wrong?”
Fargo is strange and remarkable. It marks the most auspicious beginning for a new television drama since True Detective, a reminder that the small screen can be every bit as nuanced, adult and engaging as anything on the big screen.
Fargo debuts Tuesday, April 15, on FX Canada/FXX
*** This updated version clarifies an earlier posted version as to the setting of the TV series. ***