'The Ballad of Buster Scruggs' Is a Terrific Collection of Reflective Western Vignettes

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs – a Western anthology film written, directed, and produced by the Coen brothers – is easily Netflix’s best original film of 2018.  It’s presented as if someone is reading through a storybook, and is composed of six unrelated vignettes set in the Wild West.

It opens with the eponymous tale, “The Ballad of Buster Scruggs”, which tells the story of Buster Scruggs (Tim Blake Nelson) – a cheerful, singing, sharpshooting outlaw who comes out on top of every conflict he gets himself into, even if the odds are stacked against him.  It has the most energetic, light-hearted, and humorous tone among the lot.

The next is “Near Algodones.”  It tells about a bank robber (James Franco) who gets caught and sentenced to a hanging.

The third one is “Meal Ticket.” It follows a traveling impresario (Liam Neeson) and his artist (Harry Melling), a limbless young man who can theatrically recite classic written works by memory, as their audience and earnings progressively dwindle with each new town they visit.

“All Gold Canyon” centers on an old prospector (Tom Waits) who comes across a valley in search of a potential large gold vein that he has affectionately named “Mr. Pocket.”

“The Gal Who Got Rattled” is, I believe, the longest of the bunch.  It follows a young woman (Zoe Kazan) whose brother (Jefferson Mays) has died from cholera while they are on a wagon train to Oregon.  While worrying where to get the money to pay the hired man that her brother owed, she receives advice from the two sympathetic leaders of the train (Bill Heck and Grainger Hines).   But just when her fortunes appear to be turning for the better, a life-and-death predicament befalls upon her.

Closing the movie is “The Mortal Remains”, which focuses on a philosophical discussion about human nature among five stagecoach passengers: an Englishman (Jonjo O’Neill), an Irishman (Brendan Gleeson), a Frenchman (Saul Rubinek), a lady (Tyne Daly), and a trapper (Chelcie Ross).

These six chapters are all interesting.  Each one has its own subject matter and tempo that are distinct from the others.  But what’s common among them, regardless of the varying execution and styles, is the meditative nature of their respective narratives, which can be expected to end at a pensive note.  The pace goes to a crawl at times, but the masterful direction nonetheless keeps things riveting.  Moreover, the performances are impeccably compelling and nuanced from across the board.

I thoroughly enjoyed every single segment, but if I have to pick a favorite, it’s either “Meal Ticket” or “The Gal Who Got Rattled.”

All in all, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs is a stimulating, poetic film that satisfies cravings for Western tall tales in a diversity of forms – from the comedic to the dark – while simultaneously inspiring some reflection about the timeless themes of life and death. 

Clearly one of the best films of the year.