The plot continued to unfold. After leaving the small convenience store, the psychotic killer Anton encountered members of the cartel in the wilderness.
The cartel boss had hired him to retrieve that briefcase full of cash.
However, after receiving the signal receiver, Anton mercilessly gunned down the two cartel members on the spot.
His decisiveness in killing sent a shiver down the judges' spines, making his presence even more unforgettable.
The scene then shifted. Two police officers on horseback arrived at the site of the cartel shootout.
As soon as the old sheriff spoke, everyone immediately recognized him as the voice from the film's opening narration—it was identical.
The old sheriff, experienced and seasoned, took one glance and immediately pieced together the basic outline of what had happened.
A drug deal gone wrong, an internal betrayal, and signs of another unknown individual having been present—all of it was clear to him.
Though his age had robbed him of the energy he once had in his youth, it had also granted him greater wisdom.
But while they were investigating the scene, the psychotic killer Anton had already arrived at Moss's house.
He used a captive bolt pistol to blow out the door lock. Once inside, he quickly assessed from the unopened mail and the disorderly bedroom that no one had lived here for several days.
He took a bottle of milk from the fridge, drank it in silence, and then headed to a nearby administrative office on the same street to inquire about Moss's workplace.
Yet, for the first time, the otherwise unstoppable Anton hit a dead end.
The curly-haired woman at the office remained unfazed by his questioning, repeatedly emphasizing that she had no right to disclose a resident's private information.
Sitting in the audience, Nansun Shi tensed up at this moment, worried that Anton would shoot the woman for her defiance.
However, Paul Schrader believed Anton wouldn't do it. He understood Anton's character—he was a killer with a code.
He appreciated others who also had principles.
Sure enough, Anton left. He did not kill the woman.
Meanwhile, on the police's side, they arrived at Moss's home. When they saw that the door had already been forced open, they immediately realized the killer had beaten them to it.
The sheriff's expression grew even graver when he noticed the half-empty bottle of milk sitting on the table.
"Cold-blooded. A killer with nerves of steel."
Perhaps because of his age, Paul Schrader found himself empathizing with the sheriff's thoughts. He knew this was a ruthless, experienced killer—not an easy one to deal with.
There was a real risk of dying.
But duty compelled the sheriff to press on, despite the danger.
Unfortunately, his speed still lagged behind that of the killer.
Moss had checked into a roadside motel. Inside his room, he hid the briefcase inside an air vent.
Wary of being tracked, he didn't dare to sleep soundly even at night. Instead, he sat in a taxi, circling the motel repeatedly.
The next day, he visited a gun store and bought a double-barrel shotgun. He also rented the room next to his own.
Since the motel's air vents were connected, he used a hook to retrieve the briefcase from his original room at night.
Moss was extremely cautious.
However, while he was carrying out his plan, Anton had already arrived at the motel, guided by the signal receiver.
Holding a shotgun equipped with a silencer, he approached the designated room.
"Boom!"
Without hesitation, he executed the man lying in bed. Then, he shot another man holding a submachine gun in the bathroom. Finally, when he faced a defenseless man, he asked, "How did you find this place?"
He didn't wait for an answer—he simply pulled the trigger.
But he now knew that the cartel had deceived him. He wasn't the only one looking for that briefcase.
Meanwhile, after hearing gunshots, Moss realized the danger and immediately fled the motel.
He checked into another motel and instructed the manager to inform him if any new guests arrived.
Back in his room, he carefully inspected the money in the briefcase.
That's when he discovered that a tracking device had been hidden among the stacks of bills.
Now, he finally understood why he had been relentlessly pursued.
At that moment, he heard a sound. He called the front desk, but no one answered.
He immediately grabbed his shotgun and aimed at the door. Through the gap beneath it, he spotted a shadow and fired!
But the other party fired back with a captive bolt pistol.
Moss was struck in the hand by the doorknob's flying debris. He turned and leaped out of the window to escape.
Upon re-entering the motel, he was met with a gruesome sight—blood was everywhere.
It was clear that the motel manager had already been killed.
Moss bolted out of the motel and jumped into a car. Just as he was about to urge the driver to leave, a bullet struck the driver's throat. Blood sprayed like a fountain—both shocking and horrifying.
Moss had no choice but to engage in a direct gunfight with Anton.
Luckily, he managed to wound Anton and drive him away, though he himself was also seriously injured.
To avoid being tracked, he found a man on the roadside and paid him $500 for his clothes.
Only then did Nansun Shi finally breathe a sigh of relief.
The previous scenes had no background music and didn't rush the pacing, yet there was an inexplicable, inescapable tension that held her captive.
It was as if Anton's oppressive presence had clenched her heart.
So, she continued writing in her notebook:
"Outstanding pacing. It's impossible not to worry about the characters' fates. The visuals feel incredibly real."
Finishing her note, she looked back at the screen.
By now, Moss had successfully escaped. He hid the briefcase in a patch of tall grass, knowing it was an unlikely spot for anyone to search. Then, he spent a lonely night in the park.
Meanwhile, Anton was also gravely injured.
But his way of handling it was far more brutal than Moss's.
Limping on his wounded leg, he staggered to a pharmacy. Outside, he stuffed a cloth into a car's fuel line and ignited it. Then, as the car exploded and bystanders turned to look, he calmly entered the store.
With no one paying attention, he grabbed the medical supplies he needed.
Returning to his motel, he stitched up his own wounds—his face emotionless the entire time.
Watching this, Paul Schrader couldn't help but grimace.
"This psychotic killer is disturbingly vivid," he murmured, unable to look away.
The scene shifted to a hospital.
Moss lay in bed, talking with another hitman, a cowboy-hat-wearing mercenary hired by the cartel boss.
The hitman advised him to surrender the $1.5 million.
Moss countered, asking why he shouldn't just deal with Anton directly.
The hitman replied with a meaningful statement:
"No, you don't get it. You can't negotiate with him."
"Even if you return the money, he'll still kill you—just because you've caused too much trouble."
"He's a special kind of man. You could say he has principles. The way he handles money, drugs—everything follows his principles. He's not like you."
"Yeah, he's not like me either."
Principles—this was a word repeatedly emphasized throughout the film.
Paul Schrader noted it down in his notebook. He was eager to know what kind of ending awaited this killer who lived by his own principles.
Would he be killed by Moss? Caught by the police?
Or would he perish along with another assassin?
He was intensely curious.
And so were all the other judges in the room. By now, they had completely forgotten about the film's lack of background music and were fully immersed in its storytelling.
The old sheriff found Moss's wife. He believed he could get a lead on Moss's whereabouts from her.
However, the scene didn't linger on them for long before shifting to the cowboy-hat assassin.
He was searching for the location where Moss had hidden the money box. After coming up empty, he realized that someone was following him in the hotel—Anton.
The two sat down in the room. Anton was holding a shotgun, while the cowboy-hat assassin was unarmed.
Knowing he was in grave danger, the cowboy-hat assassin made multiple offers to exchange for his life.
But Anton merely smiled and asked, "If the rules you follow brought you to this place, then what good are the rules?"
The underlying meaning was clear—if the rules you obey lead you to your own death, then what is the point of following them?
This line encapsulated the very essence of Anton's character.
He was the epitome of a man who chose to do evil simply because it benefited him more.
Paul Schrader couldn't help but press his pen heavily onto the notebook as he jotted this down.
The cowboy-hat assassin, however, had no interest in such philosophical musings—he knew he was doomed.
Sure enough, Anton killed him.
Then he called Moss.
Over the phone, he demanded that Moss hand over the money box. Otherwise, he would kill his entire family.
Of course, even if Moss complied, he himself would still die. But his wife would be spared.
Moss refused. He wasn't about to give up his life so easily. Instead, he called his mother and wife, planning to leave the city together.
Meanwhile, Anton went to the crime boss's office.
Yes, he shot the very man who had hired him for the job.
Because the boss had given the same task to multiple groups, not just Anton but also a crew of Mexican hitmen.
To Anton, this was an unprincipled move—and for that, the boss had to die.
Moss's mother and wife reunited with him at a motel, where they packed up to leave.
The old sheriff called his wife and learned of their location. He rushed over, but on the way, he saw the Mexican hitmen speeding away in a car.
A bad feeling crept into his heart.
When he reached the motel, he saw several bodies lying on the ground.
At the doorway, he found Moss's corpse.
"He's dead?"
Nansun Shi was in disbelief. She had assumed the protagonist would survive until the end and face off against Anton.
She could accept either of them dying in a final showdown.
But never had she expected Moss to be killed by a bunch of Mexican hitmen.
"This is truly unbelievable."
The other judges felt the same. The film had completely defied their expectations, breaking away from traditional storytelling conventions.
"So what happens next?"
Now, no one could predict the film's trajectory.
This sense of uncertainty was refreshing—it turned these seasoned judges into regular audience members once more.
Their curiosity intensified, making them eager to see how the film would conclude.
The narrative then shifted its focus to the old sheriff.
In truth, he had been present throughout the cat-and-mouse chase between Anton and Moss, but he was always one step too slow. He simply couldn't keep up with their pace.
Now, with Moss dead, it seemed the bloodshed had finally ended.
But the old sheriff had picked up on clues indicating where Moss had truly hidden the money box.
Under the cover of night, he returned to the motel and stood outside the room Moss had rented.
He saw that the round lock on the door was missing.
He knew that the killer with the captive bolt pistol was inside.
After a long moment of hesitation, the old sheriff pushed the door open.
The room was empty.
He sat down on the bed, his gaze falling upon the dismantled air vent on the wall. His expression was solemn.
"So Anton got the money."
Paul Schrader understood the scene immediately.
The old sheriff was like an aging man abandoned by time.
He was still wise, but his skills and worldview could no longer keep pace with a world spiraling into madness.
In this new era, he had nothing left to rely on.
His hard-earned experience had lost its value. Everything had changed, becoming something he no longer recognized.
Lost in thought, the old sheriff went to visit his father for a conversation.
Meanwhile, Moss's wife had an unexpected visitor—Anton.
"When I saw you sitting there, I knew you were insane."
Her expression was both sorrowful and resolute.
"Call it." Anton said.
"No."
She refused.
Some time later, Anton stepped out of the house.
On the porch, he glanced down at his shoes.
"Oh God… he killed that girl."
Paul Schrader finally felt a true sense of dread at that moment.
"That scene was insane—so subtle, yet so disturbingly brutal."
Nansun Shi didn't know what to say.
She felt as if she hadn't fully grasped the film—too many of its choices went against conventional cinematic rules.
But regardless, the film had reached its conclusion.
After killing Moss's wife, Anton drove away.
But as he passed an intersection, despite his usual adherence to traffic rules, he was blindsided by a reckless driver.
The impact sent Anton tumbling.
Blood covered his body, and one of his arms was broken.
He neither called the police nor sought medical attention.
Instead, he approached a boy on the roadside and paid him a sum of money for his shirt.
Then, limping, he disappeared into the distance.
As the film ended, Paul Schrader and Nansun Shi were left with unspoken emotions.
It felt as though something heavy was pressing on their chests, making it hard to breathe.
"This film is truly unique."
Paul Schrader sighed.
"Yes. I don't even know how to evaluate it."
Nansun Shi looked down at her notebook.
She had written very little—just like the film itself, which conveyed so much with so little.
It was sparse, yet impossible to look away from.
"Because it defies convention."
Paul Schrader explained, "It breaks apart traditional film structures and storytelling methods. It operates by its own rules, shattering everything familiar into pieces."
"But I love it."
He smiled, continuing to write in his notebook.
Since the start of the festival, this was the first time Nansun Shi had seen the jury chairman look this way.
This film was truly something special.
"I love it too."
Nansun Shi believed that this was exactly what film festivals were for—to recognize and fairly evaluate unique films.
No Country for Old Men. Score: 9/10.