We first glimpse jittery, serious-minded Barton Fink (John Turturro) while he is backstage at his new play, absently moving his lips to dialogue spoken by actors on the stage. Later, he is no less nervous while being hailed by snobs at a local "in" restaurant as the toast of Broadway.
And when his agent pulls him away for a quick conference, Fink is serious as he goes on about wanting to create theater for the common man - despite the fact that he wouldn't know a common man if he was bitten by one. And so he seems a bit wounded when it is suggested he head out to Hollywood for a fat movie-writing contract.
Reluctantly, Fink does go West. He sells out for money, contracting with Capitol Pictures to spend the long, hot summer writing screenplays. And his worst fears are realized when he meets the talkative, forceful head of the studio (Michael Lerner), who immediately assigns Fink to a Wallace Beery wrestling picture.
Up to this point, "Barton Fink" seems to have all the makings of a fine Hollywood satire, with exquisite period trappings, cinematography and performances. But if you know the work of Joel and Ethan Coen, you know it's not likely to remain that way.
The Coens are the producing/directing/writing team that gave us "Blood Simple," "Raising Arizona" and "Miller's Crossing," all finely tuned, if eccentric takes on various genres.
But nothing about "Barton Fink" is so easily classifiable, and as the film progresses it gets more and more surreal and weird, so that even fans of the Coens who feel satisfied in the end will likely leave the theater scratching their heads.
The film's strangeness, and its dark tone, begin in force as Fink checks into a fleabag hotel, rings a desk bell that goes on forever and is helped by a creepy, death-warmed-over bellboy ("My name is Chet," he says repeatedly). Fink then goes down the long, stretching, yellow-lighted hallways (which cause the hotel to resemble the Overlook in Stanley Kubrick's "The Shining"), enters his room, battles a mosquito and unpacks his typewriter, only to discover he has an enormous case of writer's block.
It probably doesn't help that the intense heat is melting the paste on the room's wallpaper, causing it to slowly peel; that his typewriter is directly under a picture of a beautiful woman at the beach; or that his chatty, overly solicitous neighbor Charlie Meadows (John Goodman) wants to be his friend. "You want the common man? I could tell you stories," he says. This last statement holds more truth than Fink realizes.
Later, Fink encounters one of his heroes, writer W.P. Mayhew (John Mahoney), whose advice he seeks - only to discover that Mayhew also sold out a long time before. Fink is also taken with Mayhew's companion (Judy Davis), the keeper of a secret that will send Fink into a rage.
What happens next is too important to the film to reveal, except to say that Fink comes to believe Charlie Meadows may not be who he says he is. And do we really want to know what's in that box?
"Barton Fink" is the kind of movie that critics love and audiences ignore, and my guess is that more than a few audience members will leave the theater confused and frustrated - maybe before the film is over.
And those who stay may argue the merits of the Coen brothers' latest outing - is this a deliberately ambiguous cerebral mind game or merely a vague attempt at artsy filmmaking? Is it glitz with no substance or the Coens' most realized work thus far? Is it funny? Ironic? Daring? Or just a sham?
Personally, I found "Barton Fink" equal parts funny, chilling and puzzling - but sometimes a movie is so fascinating in other areas that you don't mind when it doesn't have the traditional beginning, middle and end. Who can resist the Dante's Inferno that engulfs the hotel or the beguiling salesman-as-Satan Goodman represents (maybe) or the two cops more interested in wordplay than investigations?
To some these may seem like digressions, but to the Coens they appear to be integral servings on an already brimming-over plate.
Tuturro, whose character is apparently modeled after Clifford Odets (by way of George S. Kaufman's hair), is very good in the lead, matched by Goodman as the friendly salesman who becomes less friendly and more frightening as Fink gets to know him better. Ditto Davis, in a smaller but equally pivotal role. The scene-stealers, however, are Mahoney as Mayhew (modeled on William Faulkner) and especially Lerner as the movie mogul (modeled on Louis B. Mayer).
"Barton Fink" is certainly not for everyone, but if you're looking for something different, something outrageously fascinating, something daring and open-ended, this is it.
"Barton Fink" is rated R for violence, profanity, vulgarity, sex and a nude picture.