Unfaithful Wives 4

Frances McDormand as Doris Crane in the Cohen Bros' movie "The Man Who Wasn't There" was perhaps the most interesting unfaithful wife I've ever seen in the movies. Her part is very peculiar, starting with the fact that she says very little. Her character is an attitude, a look, a way of speaking through her presence alone. In that sense she reminds me of another unfaithful wife, mute Ada in the unforgettable movie "The Piano." In both characters silence reflects their voluntary isolation, contempt for others, an unwillingness to communicate with people they can't relate to. It's like they're saying "There's no point in trying to talk to you people." Their silence means war.

One could describe Doris as someone who doesn't suffer fools who is trapped in a small town where there's nothing but fools. She only puts up with her husband because he's so quiet and meek, because theirs is a loveless marriage.

A scene that perfectly describes that couple is when a traveling salesman drops by their house. Although her husband is not interested in buying anything he feels obliged to listen to and talk to the man. His wife, however, only wears kid gloves on her hands. When she shows up you can see her sizing up the stranger, and quickly seeing him for what he is, yet another fool wasting her time with mindless blabber. She takes the leaflet in her hands and tears it up, which calmly and efficiently sends him going -- without having to say a word, of course. She tells her husband "I don't want to talk about it," like she doesn't have the energy to listen to more foolishness that day. She's an intriguing mixture of a refined woman who has given up on social graces.

She starts an affair with the only exciting and exceptional man in town, a war hero. When her husband murders him (for reasons that have nothing to do with jealousy) she is accused and must stand trial. Thanks to the investigation she finds out the man she gave her heart and body to never so much as went to war, let alone become a war hero. She spent her life despising the small town people around her, but as it turns out he was much worse. There is a very interesting moment when the couple and their lawyer are discussing a defense strategy and the husband proposes taking the blame for the murder. It's not clear if at that moment she realizes the truth, or if she just assumes he's taking the rap for her to save her life. But whatever goes through her mind you can tell she didn't see that one coming. "I've been such a fool," she says. And later she hangs herself, maybe because she couldn't respect herself anymore after being duped like the biggest fool of all. Or maybe because she'd given up on believing that a soul mate was in her cards.

I don't see her suicide as a sort of redemption for being a cheater, so that we the audience can "forgive" her; but rather as in keeping with someone who was so demanding and unforgiving. I empathize with what she represents, a state of mind of being fed up with a dead-end life, with small people and their smallness. It's true there are a lot of pretentious, nasty people out there who are completely deluded about their self-worth, and who spend their entire lives hurting everyone. But there are also truly above average persons, who often go through life feeling very alone and misunderstood. It's easy to fall into self-pity, and I like the fact she's not sad but resolute. I don't think I ever saw a character quite like her anywhere.