True Grit (2010)

Reports of the Western’s death are always greatly exaggerated. Sure, it’s not the dominant genre it once was (theaters are now crammed with action flicks and romantic comedies), but the Western remains there in the background, waiting. Nowadays, the genre serves as a proving ground of sorts for directors—a cinema staple to take on and adapt to the filmmaker’s tastes. Sort of the way most cooks have their own take on chili: the basics stay the same, but the meat or seasoning is different. With True Grit, the Coen Brothers bring their Western recipe to the table. The result is a satisfying entry – straightforward, with just a hint of the usual Coen spice.

True Grit is, of course, an adaptation of the same Charles Portis novel that inspired the 1969 film starring John Wayne. Thus, it’s not really fair to call the Coens’ film a “remake” of that film. It’s another version of the same source material (and the Coens have claimed in interviews to be incredibly smitten with the original book). The Duke casts a long shadow, though – the role of Rooster Cogburn won Wayne an Oscar – and comparison is inevitable. Let’s just say that each version of the story has its own pleasures. This movie doesn’t erase the memory of the earlier one, but neither does it damage it. Both films prove that good story and good acting win through in any era (or genre).

The story is one of revenge. Young Mattie Ross (Hailee Steinfeld), of Yell County, Arkansas, learns that her father has been shot and killed during a business trip to Ft. Smith. Arriving to collect his body and effects, Mattie finds that the local law, while stringent in its own right (there’s a triple hanging going on as she hits town), has no interest in pursuing fugitives into “Indian territory.” So to track down the murderer, Mattie hires Rooster Cogburn (Jeff Bridges), a one-eyed U.S.-Marshal-cum-bounty-hunter who tends to shoot first and do pretty much anything else later. Mattie believes in an eye for an eye, and so Cogburn’s idea of leaden justice suits her. Adding complexity, however, is a Texas Ranger named LeBoeuf (Matt Damon), who’s after the same man, and might rather have him alive. Turns out there’s a reward for bringing him to Texas.

The bulk of the movie follows the uneasy alliance of Cogburn, Mattie, and LeBoeuf as they head out to bag the no-good Tom Chaney (Josh Brolin). Their specific adventures are best left for you to discover. None fall outside the expectations of the genre. More interesting than these characters’ actions, however, are their words. Lifted largely direct from the novel by the Coens, the dialogue snaps along with a vaguely archaic crackle. Hardly anyone uses contractions, or short sentences, but there is wit aplenty (Cogburn, when Mattie promises his fee: “I don’t believe in fairy tales, sermons, or stories about money.”) This movie is at least as fun to listen to as to look at, and, given Roger Deakins’s cinematography work, that’s saying something.

Much has been made of the fact that this is not a “Coen Brothers Movie,” and, indeed, it is not filled with the sort of odd shenanigans or outright wacky folks to be found in, say, The Big Lebowski or O Brother, Where Art Thou? True Grit does, however, benefit from the Coens’ usual ear for dialogue and their uncanny ability to capture place – whether it’s the frozen North of Fargo or the half-baked rural South of O Brother. Beyond a little rough language and some special effects violence, this is not an “updated” Western. It feels like the Old West. The trails look ridden and the costumes look lived in. That arch dialogue feels right at home.

It is worth noting, though, that while wacky characters are few (maybe the bear man counts), the leads are all bona fide eccentrics. Mattie is not at all the “cute” movie girl. With her tight braids, dark dresses, serious manner, and quick wit, she’s rather like Wednesday Addams raised by Puritans. LeBoeuf is a bit of a dandy and a pedant, affecting fringed coats, jangly spurs, and a professorial pipe. Cogburn is a drunk and a chain-smoker, and has acted ornery so long that he’s forgotten it’s an act. In Steinfeld, Damon, and Bridges, the Coens found exactly the right people to breathe life into these strange characters. We come to like them for who they are, and not just because the script says we should.

Bridges naturally has a thankless job: inhabiting a role made iconic by an already iconic actor. Wisely, he does not try to top John Wayne (not even John Wayne could top John Wayne), but steps a little to the side with a tip of his hat. Wayne played Cogburn like the star of a Western. Bridges plays him like an extra from HBO’s “Deadwood” whom you can almost smell from the screen. The role allows Bridges to do many things Bridges does well: crankiness, humor, laid-back loquacity, and even a hint of pathos. The greatest compliment I can give is that I didn’t see a man onscreen playing “The John Wayne role.” I just saw Rooster Cogburn.

Hardly any actor working straddles the line between nerd and action star was well as Matt Damon, and that’s exactly what is required for Laboeuf. The character could easily be a buffoon, but Damon underplays and keeps him plausible. I believed that LaBoeuf was indeed a bit of a prig, but I also believed he knew his way around a rifle. Mattie is the first full-length film role for Hailee Steinfeld, but you wouldn’t know it. Much like her character, the young actress holds her own against older, formidable men. This is one tough girl. Josh Brolin makes Chaney both dumb as a box of rocks and slippery as a rattlesnake, and Barry Pepper turns in nice work as a savvier outlaw named Lucky Ned, whose luck may not extend to meeting Rooster Cogburn (it’s Pepper’s job to say the line famous from the ’69 film: “I call that bold talk for a one-eyed fat man!” He gets through it.).

Have the Coens made flashier films than this one? Sure. But there’s nothing at all wrong with True Grit. This is a solid film, well written, beautifully shot, and competently acted. The Coens have mixed up a tasty twist on an old classic genre. This is pure storytelling. If it’s eye candy you want, I suppose there’s always Tron: Legacy.