Mr. Walsh's most memorable role

The devil wears polyester

I was saddened to learn of the death of M. Emmet Walsh on Tuesday. The upside is that it’s now timely to talk about his best role: Private detective Loren Visser in the Coen brothers’ first movie: “Blood Simple.”

If you haven’t seen “Blood Simple,” here is the obligatory spoiler alert: Get the hell out of here until you have seen it, then report back with your impressions.

I saw “Blood Simple” on VHS before I’d even heard of the Coen brothers. Rewatching it nearly 40 years later, it’s fun to note certain motifs and archetypes that tend to reappear in their later work. Chief among those is the oddball villain who adheres to a strict code of amorality. The Coens later said they wrote the Visser character with Walsh in mind.

Visser wears a yellow leisure suit and drives a Volkswagen Beetle. (Another PI with a Volkswagen appeared in “The Big Lebowski”).  He has a west-Texas drawl and an easy manner and a heart of blackest coal. His opening monologue doesn’t exactly give away what’s to come, but tends to ramp up the tension:

 “The world is full of complainers. But the fact is, nothing comes with a guarantee. I don’t care if you’re the Pope of Rome, President of the United States, or even Man of the Year—something can always go wrong. And go ahead, complain, tell your problems to your neighbor, ask for help—watch him fly. Now in Russia, they got it mapped out so that everyone pulls for everyone else—that’s the theory, anyway. But what I know about is Texas… down here, you’re on your own.”

Emmett Walsh was good in a lot of character roles, but for my money this is his best. 

Young Ms. McDormand

“Blood Simple” was also an impressive debut for Frances McDormand, then and now the wife of Joel Coen. She is great as a noirish sexpot but plays it with more depth and subtlety than Kathleen Turner did three years earlier in “Body Heat.”  (Since then McDormand has won three Oscars and has admirably eschewed any sort of cosmetic surgery. I don’t think the two are unrelated.) 

Anyway, Godspeed, Mr. Walsh. Thanks for a memorable performance. See you in next year’s Oscar montage.