I get the feeling that nowadays, the release of a new Coen Brothers film is becoming more and more like a cinematic event; it seems to be the film everyone is talking about, the film that you "simply must see", the film that will contain one of THE performances of the year, and that will undoubtedly cause a massive rift between those who like it and those who don't. I'm not saying this doesn't happen with other directors, but it certainly doesn't happen with as much frequency and fervour because most other directors don't have that stamp of authorship that the Coens always have on their films.

Looking back to the concept of the auteur that François Truffaut and his cohorts wrote about in the Cahiers du Cinéma, I'd imagine that they would have placed the Coens alongside other masters such as Hitchcock or Renoir because their films present us with not just any view of the world but THEIR view of the world; because of this, a Coen Brothers film is unique and instantly recognisable. Of course, one might arguably say the same thing about Uwe Boll, though I doubt anyone could be pressed to call him an auteur.

The downside of this is that anytime a new Coens film comes out, expectations are unbelievably high, with fans praying that these are met while critics get ready to pounce on anything they can. It's ironic really, since you never know what to expect with a Coen Brothers film. Which is exactly the case for 'Burn After Reading'.

I remember watching the trailer for it a while back, and thinking "this is a spy movie directed by the Coens, that should be good". How trailers do deceive. The story revolves around several characters: Osbourne Cox (John Malkovich), a CIA analyst; Harry Pfarrer (George Clooney), a US treasury department agent; Linda Litzke (Frances McDormand), a gym assistant manager; and Chad Feldheimer (Brad Pitt), a personal trainer and Linda's colleague. Osbourne has just quit the CIA (after being demoted to a much lower position because of his drinking problem) and so decides to write his memoirs detailing all his activity as an agent. His memoirs are accidentally mislaid and end up on a disc in the hands of Chad, who is positive someone will pay good money to "get their shit back". Linda needs money for several plastic surgeries she desperately wants and so helps Chad out. Meanwhile, Linda meets Harry through an internet dating website, although Harry is already having an affair with Osbourne's wife Katie (Tilda Swinton), despite being married himself. As Linda and Chad disastrously attempt to blackmail Osbourne, Harry begins to think he is being followed but he has no idea why. Then some Russians get involved and it becomes a lot more complicated.

I'm positive that many will leave this film with a feeling of disappointment; one need look no further than the plethora of IMDb forum threads with titles such as 'Burn After Watching' or 'Burn Before Watching'. They'll claim that it doesn't have much of a story and that it doesn't have a proper ending either. And they wouldn't be far from the truth. The whole disc plotline wears thin pretty quickly and gets lost in its constant twists and turns into more absurd territory. Fortunately, it doesn't take long to realise it's not about the disc at all. What we have are lots of relationships all based on lies, lack of sincerity and weakness of mind, making all the characters paranoically and irrationally. Except that we don't sympathise with any of the characters since they are all caricatures, so it turns into a screwball comedy. Add this to the convoluted nature of the spy genre that the Coens parody and it becomes a chaotic mess, yet an organised one.

The Coens make pokes at Hollywood, the CIA, and the general hysteria of modern American society, but you feel that at the end of the day, they're just playing a big joke on the audience. Even if you think it wasn't a funny joke, you'll still laugh at the great comic performances in the film: George Clooney as a sex addict, Frances McDormand as a massively image-conscious single woman desperately look for companionship but quickly turning into a nervous wreck, and Brad Pitt as a brainless personal trainer whose entire existence revolves around staying fit. We watch as each of them peels away more and more layers of stupidity and paranoia as each ridiculous scene unfolds in the film. The Coens were clearly showing no mercy here and were out for blood.

I also wanted to make mention of Carter Burwell's score. It harks back to all the classic spy movies and conspiracy thrillers, adding a dark and menacing tone throughout the film. Like all great parodies, 'Burn After Reading' maintains that façade of taking itself seriously for a long time thanks to Burwell's score. It's only until we get to a scene in Harry Pfarrer's basement that we can safely say all bets are off. You'll know exactly what I mean when you see it.

Having read this, you're probably thinking "Why would I want to see a film that doesn't have much of a story, where all the characters are idiots or unlikeable, that never takes itself serious at all, and that doesn't even have a real ending?" Well, if anyone can pull off a 90-minute joke (which is what this boils down to), its the Coens. Whether or not you think it's worth the punchline is a different matter.