"Fargo" is one of these cinematic rarities for which the word 'original' has been invented. Never had a movie plunged me in such a unique atmosphere, and never will another film do. I respectfully salute one of the greatest cinematic creations, and I use the word 'creation' as this is one of a fistful of films that cannot be categorized. And this is the true cinematic accomplishment of "Fargo", while many acclaimed films relied on homage to other classics, the Coen brothers made a masterpiece out of nowhere, out of the middle of nowhere, only drawn from their memories, a vast territory unfairly snubbed by cinema, somewhere in Minesotta.

We're not in New York City, in Los Angeles, in the Death Valley, this is Paul Bunyan's territory, a flat region with a Siberian kind of winter that paints the landscape in such a blinding whiteness you can hardly see when the land stops and where the sky begins. It's a place that is unfamiliar, almost exotic to us, efficiently providing a memorable cinematic escapism. But the setting is not "Fargo"'s only signature, the greatest strength of the masterpiece relies on the characterization, which comes part from the script, and part from the acting. In fact, when you keep the cinematography in mind, you realize that "Fargo" is one of these jewels where everything immediately penetrates your memories. That's why "Fargo" was rightfully regarded as a classic almost as soon as it was released.

The characterization is what gives "Fargo" its color, its touch of authenticity. It's a movie dedicated to the spine of America, lost between two coasts. The film made me wonder why this particular place has rarely been used in films and I guess part of the answer comes from the film itself. These are towns where politeness and simplicity are significant aspects of the culture, "Minnesota Nice" as they say. In the film, even the smallest characters welcome you with a shining smile compensating the sunless sky. They all are polite and hardly let a "F' word slip from their tongue, even hostility is hidden behind politeness. This is the austere, simple but respectable culture of the habitants, mostly descendants from Scandinavian emigrants as it's implied by the consonance of their names, Lundergaard, Gustafson, Gunderson, Grimsrud, and that heavy accent, these "Yeah" that sound like "Yah". The accents are the music that accompanies the rhythm of the film in an odd but so appealing way. The limit between authenticity and caricature is very thin, but it works because the laughs are never aimed at people, but at the situations they're going through.

And speaking of situations, the setting is quite ironic as if it's specifically in these areas where violence is repressed, that it has to explode in the most vicious way. The movie is supposed to be based on a true story, but we all know it's more a kaleidoscope of the craziest and most memorable situations that impacted the Coen brothers, the debate is pointless anyway because the movie still invites us to contemplate one of the most pointless and tragic criminal affairs, initiated by Jerry Lundergaard, the Executives Sales Manager of a car company. William H. Macy portrays with perfection one of the biggest cinematic schmucks ever, a man so in need of money, he'll elaborate an incredibly stupid scheme by asking two criminals to kidnap his own wife, so he can get the money from his ruthless father-in-law. The two men are Carl Showalter and Gaear Grimsrud, played by Steve Buscemi and Peter Stomare, their relationship is driven by the "talkative and stoic-guy-who- hardly-speaks" classic but efficient dynamic. How these guys could work together is mystery, but they must have their reasons. Anyway, from the first minutes of the film, the mission is marked by the sign of incompetence. Whatever Lundergaard tries, he fails miserably, whatever he touches is doomed, yet he never gives up. The movie disturbingly oscillates between laughs and shocks, but both are used spontaneously: it never feels forced, and helps to assimilate the absurdity of what is happening.

But the movie could have never been praised with such enthusiasm had it focused the story on Lundergaard, Showalter or Stomare. The genius of the Coen brothers is the creation of Marge Gunderson, one of these impacting and memorable characters like only Cinema can provide. Her seven-month pregnancy gives a nice touch as it helps to root for a woman carrying life while investigating a horrific case of brutal murder, and makes so authentic and touching the famous moment where she feels nauseous, while watching corpses  just because of morning sickness. But she's not only a good and sweet woman, she's also very competent. She's the heart of the film, and her investigation is the Shakespearian journey into the world of simple people in their everyday lives with their flaws, their secrets, their kindness and sometimes their lies. Marge's sweetness probably relies on the perfect solidity of her marriage. She and her loving husband, Norm, exudes love and harmony that compensate the overall cynical tone of the film, a way of showing that these simple people, overly smiling, are authentic and admirable in their simplicity, and at least, they're happy the way they are. This austere simplicity is beautifully conveyed by the nostalgic and emotional score of the film that I immediately associate with this world of simple people, profoundly attached to their roots, and who have in their hearts the warmth lacking outside.

"Fargo" is an original, inventive, beautifully written, film inhabited by a poetry that leaves you stunned at the end. And I'd like to thank Roger Ebert, as the one, who convinced me, from his ecstatic review to give the movie a second chance. I'm afraid to admit, that I didn't like "Fargo" in the beginning, but it takes one second viewing to get the genius of the film. You betcha!