This Coen Brothers offering, one of their best, seems partially about two worlds juxtaposed. The setting is basically the cold and quiet places of the North Midwest. The people here are friendly, congenial, and basically trustworthy, very different from folk in cities in warm-weather climates. Darker urban-crime-like forces infiltrate these quaint and unassuming towns, roads and lakes.

The main plot surrounds the hair-brained idea of a down-on-his-luck car salesman-manager in Minneapolis, Minnesota, Jerry Lundegaard played very convincingly by William Macy, to have his wife kidnapped. His wife's father is wealthy, and even owns the car dealership where he works. Lundegaard believes his father-in-law will put up $1 million as a ransom. However, Lundegaard will keep most of the money and give only a fraction to the kidnappers, as payment for services rendered.

But, as it turns out, the two guys hired by Lundegaard, played with right-on-the-money deadpan by Peter Stormare and Steve Buscemi, are inept low-life incompetents who are about as professional at engaging in criminal services-for-higher as a Texan would be at ice fishing. They stop at motels and hire prostitutes without realizing they could be traced if anything goes wrong. Buscemi's character constantly shoots off his mouth, unconcerned that it might draw unneeded attention. And the "silent" mute-like partner, who has less lines than the Terminator, is gun crazy.

From the get-go Lundegaard also doesn't have all the cards in the game of life. He's a rather sleazy car salesman, telling potential buyers an out-the-door price on the phone, then tries to gouge them for more money when they come in to buy the car. And he has somehow extorted $320,000 in car loan money from GMAC (the entity which finances many cars through dealerships) for erroneous sales of cars which don't actually exist. A rep from GMAC keeps calling him about the VIN numbers of the cars and Lundegaard had faxed him the numbers but purposefully made some of the numbers difficult to read. But it doesn't end there.

Lundegaard gives the thugs a brand new car from his dealership which will be engaged in the plan, but he forgets to take off the dealer plates, use other license plates, and place tags on the plates. As car sales manager, you'd think he'd know better but Lundegaard is obviously not as quick witted as the thugs he hires. This error turns out to be crucial in determining how events unfold when at a turning point in the film, a local cop stops the thugs in the car because of its faulty tags. Thereafter, nothing goes as planned for Lundegaard, his wife, his father-in-law or the two thugs when Marge Gunderson, a detective from Brainert played by Frances McDormand in an academy-award winning performance, begins investigating the case.

Fargo is a kind of urban meets rural noir. Unlike other urban noir by the likes of the Coen Brothers, Quinten Tarantino, and others, the pace of Fargo is more slow moving. We see panned shots of exteriors and interiors with references to the environments where these people reside. Long snow-clad fields, lakes, and trees. Paintings of loons and other wildlife adorn some of the interiors. The people are helpful but low-key, sometimes talking about a coming storm. In this beautiful white landscape, red blood stains the snow. One of the best films in the modern noir category.