Whether from the investigators’ point of view or the perpetrators: Crime fiction satisfies our fascination with abysmal evil and asks questions that get under our skin: How is it that crimes are committed? Are all of us capable of truly evil deeds? And exactly when does good become evil?
Also, Netflix is aware of the incredible popularity of crime stories. It has some genre jewels up its sleeve, which might belong to the same treasure chest, but which could not sparkle more differently. There are murders in the first classes of the passenger train. The own intellectuality is stroked utilizing crime, humorously investigated or the action-packed coup of a lifetime is carried out. The motto is: Crime doesn’t pay, but exciting crime thrillers do.
Suppose Brad Pitt, George Clooney, John Malcovich, Tilda Swinton and Frances McDormand voluntarily pull down the buffoonery and make fun of themselves. In that case, only the Coen brothers can be behind it. When a crime thriller becomes such a persiflage of its own genre without becoming an end in itself, but instead a wickedly funny trip, then only the Coen brothers can be responsible for it.
In focus is a CD with secret CIA data, which is accidentally found in the gym, where, say, do not work the brightest candles on the cake (divinely self-deprecating: Brad Pitt). Naturally, the latter unconsciously get involved with the CIA. The CIA doesn’t come off well in “Burn After Reading” either, of course. Like nobody here, really. And that is exactly why this film is simply brilliant.
