What defines the ‘truth’ of a story? Is it accuracy to the literal account of events, or that it resonates with a more elusive truth about our perceptions of ourselves and the world? Every episode of Fargo opens with the passage above, adjusted for the specific time and place of the season’s focal bedlam. Each season is independent, although loose connections unite each season into a shared world with Easter eggs for the eagle-eyed viewer. But each season is a ride along, a shocking and surreal crime wave that disrupts the deceptively quaint communities of the Midwest.

Watching Fargo is like having an intimate view into two trains hurtling towards an inevitable collision. It is tense and dramatic, unpredictable and quirky. As if the trains were full of seemingly supernatural criminal murderers and diffident Minnesotan house-spouses who would use phrases like “You betcha” and “Aw Jeez” even as the world burns down around them. A mix of crime drama and magical realism with a substantial dose of Minnesota Nice, all brought to a boiling point. 

I cannot overstate my love for this series. The creative aesthetics behind the production are unlike anything else on TV. The sets are gorgeous; nigh-eternal winters loom over the Midwestern plains, enhancing a sense of stasis that stands in contrast to the rupturing of the status quo. The music fills the show with an exciting dynamism. The theme song is stellar, evoking a kind of folk melody that is nostalgic, yet somber and plaintive. As it pertains to the larger show, the music is curated to great effect. The soundtrack is a diverse mix of iconic songs of the time and original compositions, which all serve to influence the emotions of any given scene.

However, it is the writing that stands above all else. The framing device which opens each episode always fills me with anticipation. Borrowed from the original Coen Brothers’ film, the statement “This is a true story” calls to mind Truman Capote’s creative nonfiction novel In Cold Blood, which itself serves as a founding inspiration for true crime as a literary genre. Stories about crime have always drawn audiences, but true crime’s magnetism is unique. The next two lines of the opening comment on respect, for the living and the dead. The contrasting means of showing this respect are wryly humorous. One wouldn’t be remiss in wondering if the calls for respect are a means to an end so that the story can be told. Perhaps elements of these stories compel us to share them, as a lesson to be learned or a chance to understand something better. 

However, contrary to the opening lines, Fargo is fiction. Many of us are familiar with films that take liberties with their claims of truthfulness (looking at you, The Conjuring). Fargo is different. The show revels in the contradiction of this deliberate and ironic narrative choice. This narrative flourish prepares the audience for a cavalcade of untrustworthy narrators. Truth is, unfortunately, not easily uncovered. 

The police investigations which act as a through line for the series are not the pinnacle of competent detective work. There is neither a Sherlock nor a Hercule Poirot to be found. Instead, we are presented with a motley crew of eccentric characters possessed each by their own perspective, and everyone is wrestling for control. Their actions are influenced by their respective worldviews and the lengths they will go to ensure their particular truths remain unimpeachable. When these characters are pitted against each other, their perspectives paint a dynamic portrait of what it looks like to live in our world.

This interplay reveals discussions on all manner of philosophical and political topics. Uncovering the reference behind each episode title is a fun bonus game for an active viewer. I want to focus on one particular example from Fargo’s second season entitled “The Myth of Sisyphus.” Season two takes place in 1979 and covers the grisly collision between a hapless couple who accidentally killed a member of the local Gerhardt crime family, the vengeful crime family in question, the encroaching Fargo mob, and the state troopers who are trying to prevent the violence from spreading. The season opens with the words of Jimmy Carter: 

It is a crisis of confidence. It is a crisis that strikes at the very heart and soul and spirit of our national will. We can see this crisis in the growing doubt about the meaning of our own lives. And in the loss of unity and purpose. 

Fargo places Carter’s crisis of confidence in direct conversation with Albert Camus’ essay on Absurdism, “The Myth of Sisyphus,” with a handful of characters reading the essay. Camus’ essay discusses how we crave meaning and purpose in our lives but are confronted by a world that has no meaning and is defined by chaos. In the classic myth, Sisyphus was cursed to push a boulder up hill, which ultimately rolls back down once it reaches the top. Sisyphus must then return to the boulder and begin pushing it again. Forever. The myth represents futility and the struggle against meaninglessness. Arguably, none of the characters gained a great comprehension of this essay. Some of them flatly reject the framework of the essay, but nonetheless act in ways that exemplify Camus’ different propositions for responses to the Absurd. Through the contrasting reactions to the text and the responses to increasingly absurd circumstances, we see the show develop its philosophical inquiry into the issue.  

This inquiry is not accomplished without a lot of heart. Fargo is ultimately hopeful. The largest source of friction, the catalyst of all chaos, stems from the inability to communicate and the resulting misunderstanding chips away at our sense of unity. Giving up is not an option, or at least, not a particularly good one. We make meaning in our lives through the things we cherish, that we wish to protect or pay our attention to. Whatever trial or tribulation, we face those challenges to preserve what is valuable. To do otherwise is tantamount to letting it fade. 

Fargo is special for how it juggles this stylistic blend. It presents humor and horror together with sentimentality. None overshadows the other. Fantastic casting choices breathe life into the writing. No matter how quirky the characters may be, they embody a sense of realism that makes the world feel alive and not too distant from our own, especially now in our own bizarre and heightened reality. Sometimes, even truth must be disguised for others to regard it. Fargo uses the medium of fiction to bypass our skepticism and take us on a journey through and around the strange heart of the modern world. And it makes sure that the journey is going to be wild and fun along the way. 
 
If your interest is piqued, the good news you can borrow the first three seasons of Fargo on DVD. Season 5 of Fargo is currently airing on FX and select streaming services. 

Ian is an Instructor and Research Specialist at East Columbia Branch. He is a huge nerd with too many interests to list here. Currently, he is fixated on the interconnection between history and fiction. His favorite kind of stories are stories about stories.