A Serious Man / Films by the Coen brothers usually fall under three genres, unless you make a fourth slot for “ill-conceived”–looking at you, The Ladykillers! But otherwise, there’s the grim crime thriller (No Country for Old Men, Blood Simple) and the wacky hyper comedy (The Hudsucker Proxy, Raising Arizona, O Brother, Where Art Thou?). And then there are what could be called “Time Out” films. Usually conceived and produced after a heavier dramatic work such Miller’s Crossing or Fargo, these movies trace the arc of a man in over his head. Barton Fink, The Man Who Wasn’t There and The Big Lebowski all followed these lone soldiers, stuck in extraordinary circumstances with little means, smarts or resolve to get out of it.

Enter A Serious Man.

The title refers to a number of characters in the Coens’ 14th film, but it can also reflect on the two directors themselves. Shirking convention, they’ve followed their masterful, Oscar-winning effort with a pitch-black comedy (Burn After Reading), and then further alienated the general public with a niche film of limited appeal, and they make no apologies for it. A Serious Man is serious stuff, even when it’s offset with over-the-top wordplay, very funny situations and a main character who’s better suited as a punching bag than a patriarch.

The patriarch is this case is Larry Gopnick, played by Michael Stuhlbarg. Joel and Ethan Coen are nearly legendary for bringing out superb performances with one outshining them all–think John Turturro in Miller’s Crossing, William H. Macy in Fargo, and Javier Bardem in No Country–and this is Stuhlbarg’s time to shine. Nebbish and eternally hopeful, Gopnick is excited about his future as his son preparing for his bar mitzvah and the university where he teaches physics has him up for tenure.

Then it all starts to fall apart. His wife is leaving him for his friend. The messages won’t stop coming from Columbia Record Club. The Korean kid with the failing grade is trying to bribe and blackmail him for a passing one. His shiftless brother has taken over the living room. His daughter is stealing money.

“Why me?” he asks to no one in particular. “I’m a good person.” Yes, he is the 1967, Minnesota suburbs version of Job. Trying to keep everyone happy and make sense of it all, he seeks out the advice of three rabbis. The first is philosophical about how God’s work can be witnessed in something as tranquil as a parking lot. The second offers a story about a Hebrew message found in a Goy’s teeth, reading “Help Me,” but offers no resolution. The third, considered the wisest, refuses outright to see him. Meanwhile, his life is thrown into further turmoil, with mounting bills, a new residence at the Jolly Roger motel and a neighbor who keeps further encroaching on his property line.

There are comedic moments in A Serious Man that border on sublime, and yet the refusal to tone down the ethnicness of the film, along with its pitch-black tone, can only prove alienating for the masses, probably explaining the film’s limited release despite the Coen’s brand name. An extended prologue performed entirely in Yiddish shows a Polish couple dealing with what may or may not be a “dybbuk,” an undead spirit. We never find out. There are no easy answers.

That uncertainty follows through to the ending, featuring yet another conclusion that most can only think of as unsatisfying. “Why does God make us feel the questions, if he’s not going to give us any answers?” Larry asks. Audience members might ask the same thing when the credits roll. Those who do should think back to the original story of Job, when God finally answers him from out of the whirlwind. Job found that answer unsatisfying as well.

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