For all their stylization and genre playfulness, the Coen Brothers have always made very personal films. But never more so than in A Serious Man, which appears to reflect on the filmmakers' experiences growing up in a Jewish family of academics in a suburb of Minneapolis, presenting us with a world which one rarely sees in the movies. It draws inspiration from the story of Job, reincarnated here as a Midwestern Jewish professor (Michael Stuhlbarg) whose life appears to be falling apart in countless ways. Judaism plays a huge role in the proceedings, as does the notion of an outsiders' community and what happens when the people you depend on suddenly prove incapable of support. Like many Coen films, it has a huge streak of shaggy dog to it -- working far better as thematic exploration than as a movie unto itself -- but this time, we can sense how profoundly it all matters to the duo.

And despite trademark bursts of absurdity, it remains deeply plausible. On the surface, Stuhlarg's Larry Gopnik has a great deal going for him: a loving wife, a good job, a couple of unruly but basically decent kids, and a sense of stability in his 1960s Minnesota home. Though surrounded by Gentiles, he has enough of his fellows nearby to feel that he belongs, and when troubles come he knows whom to turn to for support. That's before his wife dumps him for the smarmy Sy Ableman (Fred Melamed), his mooching brother (Richard Kind) moves in with no sign of leaving, and a student (David Kang) failing his course begins dabbling in bribery and blackmail. Gopnik does his best to roll with the punches, but his innate sense of decency keeps tripping him up. How can he do the right thing when the universe seems intent on draining his every resource dry?

The Coens present this dilemma without offering any solutions, suggesting that when life gets tough, we have little recourse but to stand firm and take it. They mine humor from the sheer preposterousness of Gopnik's tasks; if he could just be a little more of a prick, many of his problems would vanish. But he simply isn't selfish enough. Attaining righteousness may be hard in itself, but the road doesn't get any easier once you do.

A Serious Man wouldn't convey that so effectively, however, were it not so firmly rooted in time and place. The Coens have always used their settings as characters unto themselves; here it reflects the world of their childhood, a suburban landscape of synagogues and chintzy motels deep in the heart of Lutheran Land. Simple, throwaway details -- augmented by an unknown cast consisting largely of Midwestern Jews themselves -- lend the film a palpable sense of reality, which raises the stakes in a way few Coen films ever have.

The movie's Judaic overtones add further seasoning to the mix, eschewing pat answers for an inscrutable gaze into life's abyss ("aided" by a trio of rabbis whose most profound bit of wisdom is cribbed from Jefferson Airplane). Happy moments crop up periodically as Gopnik flails around for answers, and the Coens focus on them as reverently as they do the scourges which threaten to overwhelm their hero. The ambiguous ending doesn't bode well for reliable box office, but it stays true to the film's overall tone, reminding us that the journey doesn't end just because things start looking up. A Serious Man isn't an easy film to enjoy -- but that's kind of the point..



Tequila and soda, mmmmm.