"No Country for Old Men: and Enneagram Type 8
Eight vs. Eight: The Unstoppable Force vs the Immovable Rock
In this article, TJ Dawe and Mario Sikora dive into the film No Country for Old Men, exploring its characters through the lens of the Enneagram. Both Llewelyn Moss and Anton Chigurh, the protagonist and antagonist respectively, are powerful representations of Type Eight—driven by power and control. Their discussion sheds light on how these characters operate and how the Enneagram helps to understand their dynamics.
TJ: This is the Enneagram in a Movie Video Podcast, and today we’re going to look at No Country for Old Men.
Mario: It’s a classic. I believe it won Best Picture in 2009, and it still holds up—especially in terms of how true-to-life it feels when portraying Enneagram types.
TJ: When we decided to discuss this film, the premise that stood out was the dynamic between the protagonist and the antagonist.
Mario: Both characters are clearly Type Eights, and the movie itself has a Type Eight tone. It’s hard as nails—sparse, unforgiving, and very much in-your-face. That Type Eight mindset really permeates the whole film. But, in particular, you see it embodied by the two main characters. You’ve got Llewelyn Moss, played by Josh Brolin, and Anton Chigurh, played by Javier Bardem. These are quintessential Eight characters. It’s the classic unstoppable force meeting the immovable object. When you have two Eights coming at each other from opposite directions, there’s bound to be intense conflict and drama. Sparks will fly.
TJ: And what does it mean to be a Type Eight?
Mario: For me, the defining trait of Type Eight is a person striving to feel powerful. Power is the capacity to produce results—to make things happen. Eights are driven by this need to push against something and to assert themselves in the world. Both Moss and Chigurh embody that drive. They’re both very action-oriented and methodical, which is typical of Eights.
TJ: You see a lot of Eights in movies because they’re always doing something. You don’t have to wait long for action to start with an Eight because they just dive into it. Eights are also not conflict-averse. In fact, they’ll sometimes seek it out or even instigate it if there’s nothing going on. We see that theme in No Country for Old Men—these characters are always doing things.
For instance, there are several scenes where the movie shows us how the characters physically solve problems, like when Anton Chigurh dresses his wound after being shot in the leg. We didn’t need to see that, but we do. Another example is when Moss fashions a pole to retrieve the briefcase full of money from an air duct. The movie doesn’t skip over the details—we watch him buy tent poles, snip a wire hanger, attach it to the pole, and retrieve the briefcase. These scenes really showcase how practical and action-oriented these characters are.
Mario: And there’s not a lot of unnecessary talk from either character. Moss thinks aloud a little, but he’s very minimal with his words—just enough to work through a problem. In fact, I read that the directors had to encourage Josh Brolin to add some of those lines. It ended up being kept in the movie. And speaking of the book, No Country for Old Men is one of the most faithful adaptations I’ve ever seen.
TJ: I think Cormac McCarthy, the author of the book, is a Type Five. I remember Russ Hudson mentioning that a commonality between Fives and Eights is their understanding of how brutal the world can be. They don’t shy away from it. That’s reflected in the movie’s ending—Chigurh gets into a car accident, and for a second, it seems like there might be divine justice. But no, he gets injured, recovers, and goes on. The movie drives home the message: life is hard, there’s no justice, and you just have to deal with it.
Mario: Exactly. Now, let’s talk about the subtypes. I think Moss is a Preserving Eight. The Preserving Instinct is about nesting, nurturing, and control over resources. For a Preserving Eight, that’s amplified—control over their environment, time, energy, and people is paramount. It’s essentially a message of "I control my world, don’t touch my stuff." Did you see that in Moss?
TJ: Totally. His home is his castle, even though it’s modest. He lives in a trailer, but he’s in control of it. And once he realizes that someone’s coming for him, he takes immediate action—he gets his wife out of town and starts planning how to deal with the situation himself. He’s very methodical and focused on survival.
Mario: And I also saw a lot of buried tenderness in his interactions with his wife. There’s a protective quality to him. He’s not being controlling out of cruelty—he’s tough because he feels he has to be in order to protect her. It’s typical of preserving Eights. They can be hard and controlling, but there’s a protective tenderness underneath it all.
TJ: There’s respect and love, but he’s still in charge. If she does what he says, they’ll survive. The only time Moss loses his cool is when Chigurh threatens his wife. That’s the moment when you see him truly get angry, banging the phone against the wall.
Mario: And that’s what’s fascinating about Eights in this movie. They’re known for being powerful and assertive, but in No Country for Old Men, that power is expressed very quietly. You never see Chigurh lose his cool or raise his voice, and Moss only does once. They don’t need to shout or make a show of their strength. Their power just radiates from them.
TJ: Some people misunderstand Eights, thinking their strength is a way of covering up internal vulnerability. But as an Eight, how do you see it?
Mario: I don’t see it as covering up vulnerability. Of course, Eights experience fear or hurt like anyone else, but the strategy is about striving toward power, not running from vulnerability. The drive to feel powerful is more about control and getting results than about hiding any weaknesses.
TJ: Let’s switch gears and talk about Anton Chigurh. What’s your take on his character, particularly in terms of his instinctual bias?
Mario: There are some similarities between him and Moss, but Chigurh enjoys hearing himself talk more than Moss does. He doesn’t do it often, but when he does, there’s a sadistic pleasure to it. At the same time, he lives by a code. For example, in the gas station scene, he lets the coin toss determine whether the clerk lives or dies. When he confronts Moss’s wife later, he feels obligated to kill her because he made a promise to Moss. In his mind, he has no choice but to follow through on that promise.
TJ: He doesn’t gain anything by killing her. It’s not like he’s getting the money back, and there’s no one above him he needs to impress. It’s just about his internal code.
Mario: I see him more as a navigating Eight. Navigating types are focused on mapping out the world around them—understanding people, dynamics, and rules. In The Godfather, Vito Corleone is a Navigating Eight, whereas Sonny is a Transmitting Eight and Michael is a Preserving Eight. Chigurh is more like Vito. He’s calm, controlled, and strategic. He follows his own code, and as long as he abides by it, he feels in control of his environment.
TJ: Navigating types want to know who’s who and what’s what in any given situation.
Mario: They want to understand the group dynamics and how to interact with the people in it. Each Enneagram type will go about that differently. For example, a Navigating Four will stand on the fringes of the group, observing. A Navigating Nine will find ways to fit in and not alienate anyone. But a Navigating Eight, like Chigurh, will map out the rules and use them to stay in control. Chigurh has an internal code that keeps him powerful, and he imposes that code on everyone around him.
TJ: That’s why he can’t tolerate people breaking the rules, like when the DEA agent gives the Mexicans a transponder. He kills the agent without hesitation, and he doesn’t even care about the underling who witnessed it, because that guy didn’t break the rules. It’s all business for Chigurh.
Mario: He’s indifferent to the underling—it’s not about leaving witnesses or covering his tracks. He’s simply following his code. And if someone hasn’t broken the rules, they’re irrelevant to him. This whole movie, in a way, is about rules. You’ve got Tommy Lee Jones’s character, the sheriff, at the end of his career. He’s grappling with the idea that the world is changing and the rules don’t make sense to him anymore. He talks about how, in the past, a sheriff didn’t even need to carry a gun. Now, people are doing horrific things, and he’s lost.
TJ: Do you think Tommy Lee Jones’s character is a transmitting One?
Mario: Some people think Tommy Lee Jones often plays Eight roles, but I believe he usually plays a transmitting One. He’s firm, follows rules, and has a very evaluative, almost judgmental quality. In No Country for Old Men, he’s struggling to understand the rules of the modern world, and because he can’t, he’s ready to step aside. Meanwhile, Chigurh is completely sure of his own rules and forces everyone else to abide by them. Moss, on the other hand, is in this chaotic world trying to figure out the best thing to do to survive and protect his wife.
TJ: Yeah, at one point, Moss even says to his wife, “How long would you stop looking for $2 million?” He’s very aware of the reality they’re in. He’s not sugarcoating anything for himself or anyone else.
Mario: Right. Moss knows the stakes and isn’t deluding himself. He understands the relentless nature of the situation and that there’s no easy way out. He’s also a perfect example of the Type Eight’s refusal to stop or give up, no matter the odds.
TJ: So, what’s your final takeaway about No Country for Old Men?
Mario: I’d just say that if anyone out there hasn’t seen this movie, do yourself a favor and watch it. It’s a brilliant, faithful adaptation of Cormac McCarthy’s novel. Every time I watch it, I find new nuances, especially in the performances. It’s a masterclass in portraying Eights—if you want to understand Type Eights, this film is essential viewing.
TJ: It’s a great study for anyone wanting to portray an Eight or understand the inner mechanics of the type.