‘Fargo’ is back to bring us a post-Trump cannibalistic America

The year is 2019, and we find ourselves once again in Minnesota, watching a mother and her nine-year-old daughter trying to escape an unexpectedly violent PTA meeting. Donald Trump is fomenting chaos in the White House, and the impending assault on the Capitol looms ominously. The United States is a nation divided, trapped in a nostalgic haze and desperately trying to revive the past. Even PTA meetings are fraught with tension, ready to blow up at any moment. It is in this Fargo-esque setting, reminiscent of the Coen brothers’ iconic film, that Noah Hawley skillfully tells his story. As before, the fifth season of Fargo begins with the seemingly mundane and quickly unravels into a tragically absurd and unstoppable chain of the unthinkable.

The elusive Dorothy “Dot” Lyon, played brilliantly by Juno Temple, is at the center of this spiral of violence that unfolds amid the backdrop of a post-Donald Trump cannibalistic America. In this America, the real enemy lives right next door. The threat isn’t a stranger from a distant land, but your neighbor — the one with different views who believes in letting things take their course.

In this season, Hawley targets a specific breed of white trash — the ones who like to flaunt their real or imagined power. Someone owes them. They’ve lost something and they’re going to get it back. This is where Roy Tillman comes in. Jon Hamm (light years away from Mad Men’s Don Draper) plays a sheriff who acts like he’s living in the Wild West. He bathes in a barrel, rides a horse, packs a six-shooter, and settles the occasional domestic quarrel with a heavy hand. It’s the 19th century, and Sheriff Roy Tillman is the law in his own little Fargo fiefdom. He’s a real man — a rancher, horseman and preacher who uses towels emblazoned with his own face. Roy Tillman stands tall in front of other law enforcement officers — real ones — and casually blows smoke in their faces from a ridiculously large cigar.

Hawley’s Fargo is a noir that sublimates and reinvents every last element of noir, which perfectly describes this season’s heroine. She’s another breed of white trash (but not) battling a double-dose of prejudice. Dot Lyon is a supposedly silly housewife who is more like “that tricky guy — MacGyver,” says the cop whose life she saves. Ole Munch (played by Sam Spruell), a mysterious criminal prone to talking about himself in the third person, admiringly calls her a “tiger” — someone who represents the invincible power of the mundane, of authentic freedom.

Jennifer Jason Leigh shines as Dot’s extremely wealthy and violent mother-in-law, who has her family pose with shotguns in the Christmas-card photo. The Coen brothers’ movie and the Fargo television series all have characters like Lorraine Lyon — seemingly blessed people with profoundly human and macabre weaknesses. These characters propel the unpredictable plot, as there is nothing quite as unpredictable as a cornered human being. And that’s what Fargo does better than anyone — telling stories about cornered people. And not just anyone. These are people living seemingly simple lives that are anything but. They never really are.

One cannot escape the absurdity unleashed by the escalating violence depicted in Fargo, both in the movie and every season of the TV series. It reflects how violence can easily spiral out of control in a society where so many have weapons and use them for the most ridiculous reasons. The endless cycles of violence burdens this country that claims to be free but is trapped by fear and its obsession with firearms. Fargo consistently hits the mark in capturing the random violence of our time in this macabre and captivating fable.

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