A naive lawyer thinks he can make his way into the drug world, and boy, is he wrong. Written by the famously nihilistic Cormac McCarthy, this is a good example of how great novel-writers are not necessarily great screenwriters. It's beautifully directed and acted, but no matter how glamorous you make people look, seriously, this is not how people talk; quite hard to imagine drug lords going into philosophical rants on the meaning of life and grief and death. When it comes to cinema, great words should be translated into great images, sounds, and moments - not just great words.
PS: The movie contains one of the most memorably gruesome death scenes of a famous actor in recent years. Considering Anton Chigurh's oxygen tank in No Country for Old Men, apparently McCarthy has a knack for implementing weird murder weapons in his stories.
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