O Brother, Where Art Thou?

Huhh!

Huhh!

Get a break, boss?

No break...

Huhh!

Pick up that hammer there, boy.

Yes, sir, boss.

Huhh!

Come on, get it! Go!

Huhh!

Huhh!

Say...

any of you boys smithies?

Or if not smithies per se...

were you otherwise trained in the metallurgic arts...

- Aah! - Before straitened circumstances...

forced you into a life of aimless wanderin'?

Jesus! Can't I count on you people?

Sorry, Everett.

Well, all right.

If we take off through that bayou...

Wait a minute.

Who elected you leader of this outfit?

Well, Pete, I figured it should be the one...

with the capacity for abstract thought.

But if that ain't the consensus view...

then hell, let's put it to a vote.

Suits me!

I'm votin' for yours truly.

Well, I'm votin' for yours truly, too.

Okay. I'm with you fellas.

Mind if we join you, old-timer?

Join me, m' son.

Join me.

You work for the railroad, grandpa?

I work for no man.

Got a name, do you?

I have no name.

Well, that right there may be the reason...

you've had difficulty finding gainful employment.

You see, in the mart of competitive commerce...

You seek a great fortune...

you three who are now in chains.

You will find a fortune...

though it will not be the fortune you seek.

But first...

First you must travel...

a long and difficult road...

a road fraught with peril. Mm-hmm.

You shall see thangs...

wonderful to tell.

You shall see a... a cow...

on the roof of a cotton house. Ha.

And, oh, so many startlements.

I cannot tell you how long this road shall be...

but fear not the obstacles in your path...

for fate has...

vouchsafed your reward.

Though the road may wind...

yea, your hearts grow weary...

still shall ye follow them...

even unto your salvation.

No, the treasure's still there, boys, believe me.

But how'd he know about the treasure?

I don't know, Delmar.

The blind are reputed to possess sensitivities...

compensating for their lack of sight...

even to the point of developing paranormal...

psychic powers.

Now, clearly, seeing in the future...

would fall neatly into that category.

It's not so surprising, then...

that an organism deprived of its earthly vision...

He said we wouldn't get it.

He said we wouldn't get the treasure we seek...

on account of our obstacles.

What the hell does he know?

He's an ignorant old man.

Jesus, Pete. I told you I buried it myself.

If your cousin still has this here horse farm...

and a forge and some shoein' impedimenta...

to restore liberty of movement...

Hold it right there!

You men from the bank?

You Wash's boy?

Yes, sir. Daddy told me...

I'm to shoot who's ever from the bank.

Well, we ain't from the bank, young feller.

Yes, sir. I'm also supposed...

to shoot folks servin' papers.

We ain't got no papers, neither.

I nicked the census man.

Now, there's a good boy.

Is-Is your daddy about?

Hello, Pete.

Who are your friends?

Pleased to make your acquaintance...

Mr. Hogwallop.

My name's Ulysses Everett McGill and...

And I'm Delmar O'Donnel.

How you been, Wash?

Been what, 12, 13 years?

Yeah.

I expect you want them chains knocked off.

They foreclosed on Cousin Vester.

He hanged hisself a year come May.

And Uncle Ratliff?

The anthrax took most of his cows.

The rest don't milk.

He lost a boy to mumps.

Where's Cora, Cousin Wash?

Couldn't say.

Mrs. Hogwallop up and R-U-N-N-O-F-T.

She must have been lookin' for answers.

Possibly.

Good riddance, as far as I'm concerned.

I do miss her cooking, though.

This stew's awful good.

You think so?

I slaughtered this horse last Tuesday.

I'm afraid she's startin' to turn.

Well, that winds up tonight's...

Pass the Biscuits Pappy O'Daniel Flour Hour.

This is Pappy O'Daniel...

hopin' you folks been enjoyin' that good old-timey music.

And remember...

when you're fixin' to fry up some flapjacks...

or bake a mess of biscuits...

use cool, clear water...

and good, pure Pappy O'Daniel flour.

Well, guess I'll be turnin' in.

Say, uh, Cousin Wash...

I suppose it'd be the, uh, acme of foolishness...

to inquire if you had a hair net.

We got a bunch in yon bureau.

Mrs. Hogwallop's, as a matter of fact.

Help yourself.

I won't be needing 'em.

All right, boys!

Unh. How's my hair?

It's the authorities!

We got you surrounded.

Damn, we're in a tight spot.

Just come on out and grabbin' air!

And don't try nothin' fancy.

Your situation is pretty nigh hopeless.

Damn! We're in a tight spot!

What in the Sam Hill?

Pete's cousin turned us in for the bounty.

What the hell are you saying?

Wash is kin!

Sorry, Pete!

I know we're kin, but they got this depression on.

I got to do for me and mine.

I'm gonna kill you...

Judas Iscariot Hogwallop!

You miserable, horse-eatin' son of a...

Damn! We're in a tight spot!

Damn his eyes!

Pa always said, "Never trust a Hogwallop."

Come and get us, coppers!

You boys is leavin' us no choice...

but to smoke you out.

- Damn! - We're in a tight spot.

Light her up!

Hold up, boys!

Ain't you ever heard of negotiatin'?

Bet we could talk this thing out.

I hate fire!

You lousy, low-down, yellow-bellied goat...

Pete, we got to speak with one voice here.

Careful with that fire, now, boys!

Light the loft, son.

Aah!

I hate fire!

Gapped-toothed, carpetbaggin', motherless spawn of hell!

- Step back. - Damn it. Look out.

Holy St. Christopher!

Get away from that vehicle, chaps!

She's liquid fire!

Take cover, boys! That ain't popcorn!

Let's get the hell out of here!

Scatter, boys!

Goddamn it!

Get in, boys!

I'm gonna R-U-N-N-O-F-T!

Come on, boys, come on! Come on!

What are you doing here?

You ought to be in bed, clump snatcher.

You ain't the boss of me!

You candy-butted, car-thievin' so-and-so's!

I curse your name!

Go back home and mind your pa!

What's the damn problem?

I can get the part from Bristol.

It'll take 2 weeks. Here's your pomade.

Two weeks?

That don't do me no good.

Nearest Ford auto man's Bristol.

Hold on, now. I don't want this pomade.