When people think of films, the music may come to mind. From the famous two notes of Jaws to the screeching strings of Psycho, film scores are used to guide emotions along with the plot, cue suspense, or soften transitions. And yet, Ethan and Joel Coen’s No Country for Old Men is nearly absent of music entirely.
Sound Design is the Score
A film’s sound design takes centre stage with the absence of music. Every single detail, from boots scraping across the ground to the click of a gun chamber. A traditional film would soften these sounds in order to feature the soundtrack, but in this film, they completely take over.
The hotel room scene, where Moss sits facing a locked door while Chigurh lurking outside. You can hear the faint beeping of the transponder growing faster, which acts as an audio cue to signal Chigurh’s approach. The sudden pop of the lock being blown out of the door amidst the silence was frightening. In my opinion, a musical buildup would not make this scene feel as suspenseful.
Silence as Realism
A lack of music in a film can contribute to its atmosphere. It is used in thrillers as a way to tell us when to brace for danger, but No Country for Old Men denies the audience those audio cues on how and when to feel something. We are forced to experience things as the characters do.
The scenes of Llewelyn Moss (Josh Brolin) coming across the drug deal gone wrong in the desert would typically have some sort of ominous strings playing as he walks among the trucks riddled with bullet holes to signal to the audience that he is entering a dangerous situation. However, we only hear the wind, footsteps, and flies buzzing around dead bodies, which keeps us in the moment with Moss, feeling the increasing sense of dread.
Unease
Silence often feels unsettling in films because we have been conditioned to expect music as an emotional guide. Every background sound or word spoken holds a lot of power and every second of silence renders the audience vulnerable to the actions of the antagonist.
The coin toss scene in the gas station shows Chigurh forcing the proprietor to call a coin toss. There is no music with growing tension to announce the stakes of this interaction, though there is a [#] hertz hum of a fridge. The silence in the background and between the characters is awkward, unsettling, and terrifying. It feels, in my opinion, too real, like I am also in the room with them, eavesdropping on their conversation, which could turn deadly at any moment.
Not Your Traditional Western
Classic Western films have a heroic theme for the cowboy, a swelling orchestra for vast landscapes, and perhaps booming percussion for a showdown at high noon. No Country for Old Men is a neo-Western, that is, cowboys, gunfights, and the desert but set in a more present time. This is not the Wild West of a clear-cut good and evil but one of moral ambiguity where music no longer fits.
