{"id":427283,"date":"2023-12-16T09:58:00","date_gmt":"2023-12-16T14:58:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.automoblog.com\/?p=427283"},"modified":"2024-03-30T12:15:35","modified_gmt":"2024-03-30T16:15:35","slug":"fargo","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.automoblog.com\/fargo\/","title":{"rendered":"TruCoat & Minnesota Nice: Fargo Holds Its Violent Charm Nearly 30 Years Later"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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release date<\/div>
March 1996<\/div><\/div>
director <\/div>
Joel Coen<\/div><\/div>
starring<\/div>
Frances McDormand
William H. Macy
Steve Buscemi
Peter Stormare<\/div><\/div>
written by <\/div>
Joel & Ethan Coen<\/div><\/div>
fun fact<\/div>
The wood chipper is on display at the Fargo-Moorhead Visitors Center.<\/div><\/div>
where to watch<\/div>
Amazon Prime<\/a><\/div><\/div>\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\n\n\n

Is Fargo a Car Movie? <\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Fargo<\/em>, the highly praised and award-winning film by the Coen brothers, is rarely mentioned as a car movie, but it qualifies in a few odd ways. Besides cars playing a pivotal role, it all boils down to one character: Jerry Lundegaard. As inhabitants of the third rock from the sun, all of us have had to deal with some version of Lundegaard. He’s a literal b\u00eate noire of our world. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The slimy car salesman is a trope, a clich\u00e9, a banal semi-insult that, like the valley girl or the blond surfer dude, is simultaneously correct and wrong. The majority of car dealers I’ve interacted with are good people; they know cars, and they want to help. They’re not cheaters, underhanded, or crooks. Like mechanics, they labor under the common belief as salespeople that they are nefarious actors out to take your money.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They’re not, but Jer Lundegaard sure is. Stuttering, shifty, awkward, surreptitiously needy, and as trustworthy as a sideshow barker, if Lundegaard weren’t a car salesman, he’d be huffing snake oil at the turn of the 20th century. Everything about how William H. Macy plays the guy makes you cringe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And We’re Stuck<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Yet, here we are. Every so often, we find ourselves at a dealership we should avoid. Then up ambles this guy in a suit made from a shower curtain, hair combed with buttered toast, side-eyeing your girlfriend’s legs, and bragging about his dime-store golf trophy. If not a suit, expect an unbuttoned polo with a gold chain and chest hair. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

We’re stuck in some Dantean circle of the underworld, and all we want to do is buy that Civic or Camry and get off the lot before he gets any of himself on us. If this guy ran a bakery, he’d haggle over the price of a loaf of bread and then charge you an extra 10 cents for the bag; “Oh now, those aren’t gratis, friend. They put those in bags back at the plant.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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