FilmVomit

The Coens hate everything. And have managed to condense that hatred into an hour and a half long film that seems, on the very surface, to be quite peppy and upbeat. If you’re an idiot. Which, then, would make you one of the things that the Coens hate. If you are a misanthropic recluse, like myself, you will laugh until your guts hurt. If you are not, you probably won’t get it or will get it and won’t like it.
By Coen standards, or really by any standards, the film itself is a piece of shit. Filmed indifferently, edited sloppily, acted in broad caricature. But this is deliberate, of course, because the Coens can get away with near anything, and because they are pointedly mocking films for which the standards here would be the apex.
Ultimately this kind of fluff is always a bit soul-wrecking, because to be affirmed in ones own hatred of everything seems an empty gesture.