Is it just me, or are westerns on the way to being the new vampire?This is Bennett, taking a break from kidnapping John Matrix's daughter.
I never really cared for westerns; thought they were, generally, slow, boring, and cheesy. John Wayne's characters, despite their iconic place in Hollywood history, never struck me as authentic or interesting. But recently I've had a change of heart, thanks in no small part to Garth Ennis's fantastic comic series, Preacher. Ennis's take on the spaghetti western and its themes of manhood, honor, and love has sparked in me an interest in the genre that's steadily grown over the past few years. The Coen Brother's last foray into the genre, No Country for Old Men pretty much branded me an avowed fan of the western. I even went out and read the book by Cormac McCarthy and loved it.
So when previews of the Coen Brother's latest film True Grit started airing, I was right on board. Got a seat behind the driver, had my ticket in hand, ready and rarin' to go. I even went out and Redbox'd the original 1969 film, which won John Wayne an Academy Award for Best Actor, the weekend before watching the remake. So please understand that it was with that film in mind that I went in to see the latest version of True Grit, which is based on a novel of the same name. Now, I've read a few reviews of the newest version, and the impression I have is that most people like the original just fine but think that the new one is God's gift to spurs, eye patches, and hand-rolled cigarettes.
Nonsense.
True Grit is a good film, don't get me wrong. It's visually stunning at moments, hilarious at others, and pulls you along at breakneck speed and sends you through a gauntlet of emotions that leaves you by turns stunned, awed, bruised, and snickering. But it's not a great film. I'll admit that my judgment may be too colored by the Wayne version, but I didn't get a strong sense of a developing friendship between US Marshall Rooster Cogburn (Jeff Bridges), and his employer, 14 year old Mattie Ross (Hailee Steinfeld). In fact I was more or less confused by their relationship--what's the point of their connection? Why do we care? How does each character fulfill the other's needs? Why does Texas Ranger La Boeuf (Matt Damon) seem to have a stronger connection with the girl? Where is her change, her arc? Where's Cogburn's? The movie is set up just fine, but the third act seems too passive, too much of an accident, too much in a rush to the end.
And that's the problem. At the heart of the movie, about a 14 year old girl who hires drunken US Marshall Rooster Cogburn to hunt down her father's murderer, Tom Chaney (Josh Brolin), is a story of two wildly different people developing a strong connection. To complement their dynamic is La Boeuf, a dandy of a Texas Ranger played with hilarious bravado by Matt Damon, who tags along intermittently to provide comic relief and the occasional support in gunfights. But Bridges, whose portrayal of Cogburn seems to intimate a sense of being haunted or broken, doesn't pull off the connection with his teenage counterpart. In fact, by the climax, when his friendship to Mattie is all that's driving him, I was left wondering: huh? When did this happen? Why does he care? The final moments are filmed with such drama, such beauty and poise that it almost seems a joke or a parody because it's so out of character, and because there simply wasn't that distinct of a change. We didn't get a sense that she mattered all that much to him. To him, she was just another person up until that moment, or so it seemed. I'm not asking for a Kung Fu Kid moment in a wrecked car, but when Cogburn opens up to Ross about his past, you'd think it wouldn't be so early on or occur in such a throwaway scene. In the original, the scene in which we find out a little about Cogburn's history is at a central, important moment full of tension, a moment that puts them at the precipice of a major change for Ross--we know, without a doubt, as they set up outside a dugout to ambush some men, that they're about to go through events that may very well leave Ross deprived of her innocence to violence and the Way of the World; not so in this version, when they're riding along at a leisurely pace with nothing on the line. Wayne's portrayal wasn't of a broken man, or a haunted one--his Cogburn had quirks, and his main one was his drunkenness. Wayne approached the role in a pretty subdued fashion. It wasn't as ugly as Bridges', and while it may have been unrealistic, his connection to Ross (Kim Darby) was far more real, and we felt it. They actually seemed to be growing closer, even though they were at odds at times.
And it's not like there weren't ample opportunities for the two characters to cotton in the Coen Brothers' version. Unlike the original, the two are left for scenes on end by themselves. No La Boeuf to bother them. It's an interesting choice on the filmmaker's part, but it also means that they're forced together instead of Ross choosing to be at Cogburn's side during tense, dangerous moments. In the end, the characters just don't seem to have much of a connection, while Ross and La Boeuf do. Weird.
But the acting is excellent. Absolutely excellent. Hailee Steinfeld can hold her own, and I mean that in every italicized letter. At fourteen, Steinfeld displays a huge range of emotions at her disposal: she is a cold, calculating, thrifty deal-maker, an innocent child, shrewdly cunning in her analysis of people's natures, but grown enough to admit her mistakes... it's quite a revelation, and her performance gives me a little more hope for a Hollywood that can be too obsessed with looks and attitude. Oh, but don't get me wrong--she does have Presence, and she carries this film with poise and ease. Damon might be her only real competition here as his lines and comedic timing are inspired. Another note must be said concerning Barry Pepper, who plays "Lucky" Ned Pepper, the leader of the gang Tom Chaney joins. Talk about a character with depth! This guy is cold, but sympathetic, rational, and merciful all at once. He's easily the most complex character here, thanks in no part to the nuanced performance by Pepper. Bridges, however, is playing a pretty popular archetype: a tough guy who's pretty much damned the world, a cynic who needs nobody and loves fewer, a man who, against his beliefs and against his nature, allows a little girl to muscle her way into his heart. But like I said before, it doesn't seem to work. He's too much of a bum. Oh, sure, he can fight, but Bridges just doesn't bring enough to the table to make Cogburn really stand out and step out of the flat character that's on display . Wayne portrayed Cogburn as a man who grudgingly watches as Ross earns her stripes, shows her grit, and accepts her as his equal. Bridges? He's too much of a side character and lacks that last step to make him really pop for me. He goes from flaming drunkard to a gabby trail rider to a comedic fop, but lost in the mix is a man who is open and deep enough to be affected by Ross and her plight. It's so off-balance that at the crucial moment when he commits to her, it seems like he'd do the same for anyone else. It's insignificant, but jarring because it doesn't feel right.
Now, don't let my gripes stop you from seeing this movie. I liked it, in my own way. I think, to be fair, I should give it another go before really putting my stamp of approval (or disapproval) on it, but it's certainly worth watching, particularly if you haven't seen the original. I think if I had gone in cold, I may have a much more positive take on it. So yes, watch it, if only to support the genre. Maybe the box office returns will help us move away from all these damn vampires.
I'd rather get impaled by an Austrian-propelled steel pipe than watch another vampire movie. But give me True Grit any day.
No comments:
Post a Comment