Aside from the bleak beauty of the faces and the terrain and the naked allegory of human futility and the triumph of death, the film, like the novel, delights in showing how things are done. If you want to know how to hide a briefcase in a motel, or tend to a shotgun wound while on the run, this is the movie to see. But unlike many other Coen movies and just about every other movie made these days, it shies away from the graphic depiction of the worst carnage. The violence strikes off screen and when least expected. Much like Chigurh, or the Coen Brothers, or death itself.