There has rarely been as perfect a match between filmmakers and their source material as Joel & Ethan Coen and Pulitzer-Prize winning author Cormac McCarthy. Ranging from the Western harshness of Blood Meridian to the Oprah-approved dystopia of The Road, McCarthy has always told stories of stark brutality, largely devoid of warmth and happiness. Meanwhile, the Coen Brothers have become increasingly detached in their storytelling over the past decade, making a series of films that have each felt successively more and more distant from their audiences. These similar sensibilities blend perfectly in No Country For Old Men, one of the best films of the year and the Coens' strongest movie since Fargo. What starts as a well-made genre piece, an unquestionably creative thriller, becomes much more than that in the final act and ends up one of the most haunting experiences you'll have in the theater this year. No Country For Old Men sticks with you, playing its sad refrains in the back of your mind's eye for weeks after you see it. You may see films you like better in 2007, but you're unlikely to see one more memorable.

No Country For Old Men opens simply enough as Texan hunter Llewelyn Moss (Josh Brolin) stumbles upon the aftermath of a drug deal gone very bad. Amid the carnage, Moss discovers two million in cash and, being human, he grabs the money and heads for the hills. What comes after him is evil incarnate in the form of the ultra-violent hitman Chigurh (Javier Bardem). Like Keyser Soze from The Usual Suspects, Chigurh is mythically bad, evil on the level of Cain or Hades, rather than just some simple criminal. Very little is known about Chigurh because most people who have met him never meet anyone else ever again. Following Chigurh and Lleweyln's trail is Ed Tom Bell (Tommy Lee Jones), a local lawman who bemoans the changing times and humanity's capacity for evil. It's a classic set-up of good trying to catch evil before it gets to good, and it features some of the most intense, riveting thriller sequences you've seen in years. Will Llewelyn escape? Will Bell catch Chigurh? Prepare for whitened knuckles and very few bathroom breaks.

Without giving anything away, the final act of No Country For Old Men takes such a sharp turn that it becomes clear that the Coens and Mr. McCarthy aren't so interested in the simple questions of good vs. evil. It's a film of themes, not questions and answers. No Country turns from a thriller into something closer to a very dark dream. Watching the film develop is like standing frozen as you watch dark clouds roll in from across the horizon. You know the darkness is coming. You know the storm is getting stronger. But you just can't move. And then the film ends. The final scene of No Country For Old Men, featuring an Oscar-worthy monologue by Tommy Lee Jones, is what sticks with you for days, a beautiful mournful endnote that has already inspired ridiculous criticism from some filmgoers looking for closure in a film that never gives its viewers any hope that there will be a tidy ending. The title becomes relevant again, and you realize that it's not just Llewelyn or Bell's lives that are growing darker, but all of ours. Old Men is not a happy, holiday movie. On the contrary, it's more haunting and soul-shaking than any horror movie I've seen this year.

One of many amazing things about No Country For Old Men - besides the award-worthy performances by Brolin, Jones, and Bardem - is how much it feels like a product of the entire filmography of the Coen Brothers, two of the most important creative voices of the last quarter century. Watching No Country brings back memories of elements from earlier Coen movies as disparate as Raising Arizona (the pure evil incarnation that almost seems to rise from the depths of hell) and Fargo (the final scenes of law-people who seem defeated by what they've witnessed feel like natural counterparts ... although this one feels older, wiser, and darker). Fargo will always be a masterpiece, so it's hard to say quite yet that No Country is "as good", but it's definitely as well directed. There's an economy of filmmaking here (much of the film features no dialogue at all) that's simply masterful and something 99 out of 100 filmmakers couldn't pull off in their wildest dreams. It shouldn't be ignored that No Country, while a perfect fit for the Coens, is incredibly challenging material and proof that, despite a few recent missteps (Intolerable Cruelty, The Ladykillers), the brothers are still some of the most important American filmmakers alive.

So, is No Country For Old Men flawless? It's hard to say after only one viewing. It's a film I want to see again, but, even after seeing dozens of movies since, it's the one that sticks in my head. If it has a flaw, it's that the whole experience is so detached and so cold that you wonder if the film could have had the same power or even more with a little warmth. But for men like McCarthy, the Coens, Llewelyn Moss, Chigurh, and Bell, there is no warmth in this cold country, it's simply too dark and violent for old men. No Country For Old Men doesn't make for an easy or predictable movie, but it's the kind of experience that sticks deep in your soul and is very hard to shake.