Who was it that was asking about my views on Barton Fink? I'll try and answer before my dinner arrives.
I finished my rewatch of Barton Fink the other night (on blu-ray, naturally) and I'm more certain than ever that it's a masterpiece. I hadn't actually seen it in years, maybe since I was about seventeen or eighteen, and my memory of it, as well as my appreciation of it, had started to fade. Have no fear - they're now both back in full force.
Barton Fink is no doubt a peculiar movie, and nothing less than an acquired taste. It plonks you down in a peculiar world and just says, "Accept it." That's what many of my favourite films do - Synechdoche, New York or, say, The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou definitely don't take place in our reality, but they don't spend any time establishing what reality they do exist in. They just are.
The world of Barton Fink is almost suffocating. It's a period piece and every character is a huge caricature. It's also grainy as shit, and this is particularly apparent on the blu-ray version. The Coens have shown they can make pristine, clean films when they want to - Fargo, No Country For Old Men - and so we can only include that this griminess, this mustiness is a conscious decision. It's like the hotel room that Barton spends most of the film in.
The film gets odder and odder as it goes on. You could come up with a billion different interpretations and they'd all be equally valid. I've gone through a few in my head - Barton is in purgatory, undergoing tests and waiting to ascend to heaven; maybe he's even in hell, which would explain the heat; or the whole film is a grand metaphor for writer's block. In the end, I prefer it when I just take it on face value - i.e. this is a world where these things just are. None of the characters behave like real people, but such is this version of Hollywood.
There are a few jokes which are laugh out loud funny (my favourite being "Physician, heal thyself" "Good luck with no fuckin' head!") but the whole movie is one, long form joke. Barton is a joke. The man's a fucking hypocrite. He claims to be a voice of the common man, but he's not the common man, nor is he interested in listening to the voice of the common man (as represented by Charlie, who turns out to be decidedly uncommon). He's not even a good writer - he churns through the same ideas over and over, and his 'masterpiece' is just a rehash of the play he wrote earlier in the film. And I don't mean a postcard.