Film Review: True Grit
The first thing you need to know about True Grit is that it really is a Coen Brothers film. It is every bit as arch and precious as Fargo, and like that film, True Grit is meant to be brutal and funny at the same time. In fact, most of the humor comes from the brutality. The message being that life in this Western-era of America was nasty, brutish, and short and isn’t that hilarious.
Watching the film, there were times when I was reminded of Melville and Shakespeare, both of whom can step back in the middle of a story and remind you that you’re reading or watching a play without breaking the spell their characters hold on you. There are moments of bravery and heroic action in the film, when you admire the characters for their “grit.”
These scenes seem to exist because they’re the essential ingredients of the Western genre, but they’re shot and played sincerely, creating a tension with the ironic sensibility of the movie as a whole. Of course, the Coen Brothers mastered this tension long ago, but where irony always seemed to win the day in Fargo, sincerity comes out on top in True Grit.
This may be partly because of the influence of the original book, which I’ve not read but is apparently very funny on its own. Both the film and the book are narrated by Mattie, now grown old and self-described as a spinster. Her own distance from the events as a narrator lends itself well to the Coen Brothers’ ironic distance while also insisting on the importance and meaning of the events she describes.
The performances of Jeff Bridges and Hailee Steinfeld also deserve credit for grounding the movie in their respective roles as a whisky swilling US Marshall and a smart, determined teenager. Bridges deserves particular credit for never hinting that his character, Rooster Cogburn (already made iconic by John Wayne), is unbelievable in any way. He doesn’t disappear into the role (he’s always Jeff Bridges to me), but for two hours I believed that Jeff Bridges was a pitiful drunk and also an honorable and brave US Marshall.
In contrast, Matt Damon in his role as a boastful and preening Texas ranger always seems to be playing a character meant to be laughed at. This isn’t a flaw in his performance, but a reflection of his character’s position in Mattie’s memory. It’s clear that she lionizes Rooster Cogburn, and maybe fell in love with him in an immature way, but thinks much less of the Texas Ranger.
The best compliment I can pay the movie is that it really made me want to read the book.
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One other note, the score for the film was just declared ineligible for an Academy Award because it uses a great deal of music adapted from hymns. That’s a shame because, particularly for someone who was raised with these songs, the score is beautiful.
Someone has uploaded a sample of the soundtrack to Youtube, so you can check it out before it’s pulled down:
