FX’s FARGO, created, often directed, primarily written, and run by Noah Hawley (of FX’s LEGION fame), is one of the best things on TV. A foolhardy idea, it seemed at the start; an anthology TV series adaptation of the classic Coen Brothers’ film, FARGO (1996). The original FARGO was a darkly comic crime story that was imbued with a crystalline Coen sensibility. A critic’s darling and 7-category Oscar nominee, the Coens’ FARGO broke the mould of 90’s gangster pics and launched the fabulous career of one Frances McDormand. The audacity of Hawley to presume to turn the cult classic into a pulpy TV anthology was palpable. However, a genius is only celebrated after the fact. And celebrated he is. Hawley’s FARGO has, in its first three seasons, received unanimous critical acclaim – scores of 93, 97 and 100 on the sacred Tomatometer – and a boatload of awards, 51 to be specific. A total of 17 primetime Emmy nominations in 3 years. The success of both FARGO and LEGION has propelled Hawley to the top of Hollywood’s most desirable writers. So, let’s talk about why his version is worthy of the name: FARGO.
Noah Hawley, is one of my favourite creators in TV. Having also directed and ran FX’s LEGION, Hawley is a virtuoso in creating artful, incredibly entertaining, and polished works of TV. The range of gifts he imparts to FARGO include impeccable sound design and musical direction, intricately composed and luscious cinematography, as well as compelling narrative architecture. Most important, however, is Hawley’s intelligent and literary writing. It is in perfect parity with key elements of the Coen Brothers’ writing of the original Fargo: absurdist, eccentric, and darkly humorous. This, to me, is the reason for the success of Hawley’s FARGO. Hawley is finely in-tune with what made the original great. He reveres the work and style of the Coen Brothers (and it shows). But he also makes it very much his own. Where the original was indie-ish and had a more intimate story, Hawley has, over the years, turned FARGO into something much bigger. Season 1’s story was much like the original: a small-town tragedy of morals concerning just a few characters. Season 2 turned into a period piece telling of a big-city mob’s hostile takeover of a local crime family; a primary theme being conservatism in the face of burgeoning modernity. Season 3 further expanded the scope of theme, crafting a tragic tale of corporatists preying on the inherent greed of the small townspeople. All the while, Hawley makes it clear that though the stories unfold in the same universe, revolve around the same Midwestern locales, and see characters through multiple generations; FARGO is not a place or people. FARGO is a philosophy.
FARGO combines the surreal American small-town mystery/mystique of Lynch’s TWIN PEAKS, the classical gangsterism of Chase’s THE SOPRANOS, and the lush period design of Winter’s BOARDWALK EMPIRE. Yet it further incorporates the trademark Hawley/Coen vibe - an almost Kafka-esque sense that everything only ever seems to get worse. Why? Because wolves can smell sin on the breath of good people. And they come hunting. This is not to imagine FARGO-ism as dreadful or fatalistic. On the contrary, a crucial organ of Fargoism is the grim sense of humor it employs in telling these bloody stories. The head-scratching strangeness of its quirky characters. The stylized theatricality of its violent narrative. It’s dark, it’s murderous. But it’s never bleak or boring.
FARGO is a gangster crime saga somewhat in the vein of THE SOPRANOS and THE WIRE (also BOARDWALK EMPIRE, SONS OF ANARCHY, etc.). Though, where family drama and gangland intrigue are two key drivers in THE SOPRANOS, likewise politics and policework in THE WIRE; FARGO takes a more absurdist path. The stories told in Fargo usually progress through events of bad luck, miscommunication, warped senses of ethics, and (in one case) even extra-terrestrial intervention. They are peppered with idiosyncratic characters, midwestern Americana, oddball conversations, religious symbolism, and good ol’ gang warfare. Like the gangster pics of the 90s, Fargo does not shy from blood. Instead, presenting moments of violence as stylized, choreographed art. Where hardass good ol’ guys like De Niro, Pesci, Pacino, Nicholson, Walken and the like were chosen to play gangsters in the more traditional wiseguy films, FARGO’s ensembles are made up of softer, quirkier actors: Chris Rock, David Thewlis, Jesse Plemons, Mary Elizabeth Winstead, and my personal favourite: Martin Freeman.
Freeman’s season 1 protagonist, Lester Nygaard, best represents the traditional “Fargo” character/narrative arc. A good-natured but troubled person, through some unfortunate twist of fate, encounters a choice: to do the right thing, or not. When they choose not to, as people do, they are thrown into situations beyond their control. The wolves are unleashed. Bad people ride into town and innocents are killed. The protagonists do what they can to manage the situation but are constantly forced or choose to do the wrong thing. Their story spirals and eventually careens to a bloody end. Yet, each season of Fargo usually ends with the scales of morality being balanced once again. Good eventually wins out, bad is either killed or gone back into hiding. Too bad the cities of Fargo, North Dakota and Kansas City, Mississippi are far worse for the wear.
An eclectic cast of characters. Thoughtful and witty dialogue. Covert philosophical themes. An iconic soundtrack with both fantastic original scores as well as perfectly curated pre-existing songs (ranging from classic and psych rock, old-timey jazz and funk numbers, etc.) Epic stories each season that twist and turn and leave you awestruck and cheering, chuckling in awkward confusion, gasping in shock, and sometimes, sad and melancholy. Check out FX and Noah Hawley’s FARGO if you like crime/gangster dramas, absurdism, dark comedy, curious stories or just some damn good TV.
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