True Grit

I must admit that I was leery upon hearing that Joel and Ethan Coen's next film was to be True Grit, which was made into a film forty-one years ago and earned John Wayne his only Oscar in the iconic role of Rooster Cogburn. The Coens' only previous remake, The Ladykillers, is their worst film, and I couldn't imagine why they were keen on resurrecting this story.

I am therefore glad to report that this True Grit is a fine film, one of the best of the year, and an improvement in every way on the 1969 Wayne film (which was directed by Henry Hathaway). By means of comparison, I took advantage of the airing of that film on Turner Classic Movies the night before I saw the new film, the first chance I had to see it in many years. I also read the book, but alas I was only about twelve when I did, so it is not exactly fresh in my mind.

The story is a simple one. Mattie Ross, a fourteen-year-old girl, seeks vengeance for the murder of her father by a hired hand, Tom Chaney. Since Chaney has escaped into Indian Territory (what we know today as Oklahoma), she is forced to hire a U.S. Marshal privately to catch him. When she asks the local sheriff in Fort Smith who the best marshal is, he gives her three names, but she chooses the one he says is the "meanest"--Rooster Cogburn.

Also trailing Chaney is a fancy Texas Ranger, LaBoeuf, who joins them on their quest. Mattie, headstrong as the day is long, insists on traveling with him, and the two men ultimately acquiesce. Cogburn learns that Chaney is running with an outlaw he is also after, Ned Pepper, and things lead to their conclusion with Mattie getting her revenge, and Cogburn having an epic showdown with Pepper.

The two films differ occasionally in plot. The Coens choose not to show Frank Ross being murdered, and in their film Cogburn and LaBoeuf split up, while in the Hathaway version they always remain teamed. But the biggest difference is one of tone. The Hathaway is a standard Western that says nothing about the world outside its purview, while I found the Coen film to be much richer, much darker, and, most importantly, much better directed, written, and acted. I was glad to see that my favorite line from the first line is repeated, when Cogburn calls out Pepper, yelling, "Fill your hand, you son of a bitch!"

The biggest question someone may ask is who is better as Cogburn, Wayne or Jeff Bridges? It's apples and oranges, really. Wayne was playing Wayne, for the most part. He could be a good actor, especially when John Ford or Howard Hawks was directing him, but here he's his old irascible self. Bridges, who has no heroic reputation to uphold, is freer to depict the warts of the character, and in fact is shown drinking far more than Wayne was (if I recall correctly, Wayne remains sober throughout the manhunt). Bridges is more submerged in the role, adopting a gruff voice that is unlike his own.

In other roles, Hailee Steinfeld is terrific as Mattie. Her opposite number, Kim Darby, was an adult when she played the role, so I appreciated the age-appropriate Steinfeld, who makes her film debut. We get the stubbornness of the girl, but when he is in danger we get more of a full effect how young and untested she is.

A one-hundred-percent upgrade is seen in the role of LaBoeuf. He was played abysmally by singing star Glen Campbell in the original version, who to my knowledge never made another movie. The Coens cast an actual actor, and a good one, in Matt Damon, who makes the character even more supercilious (by casting an actual child as Mattie, it makes his line about wanting to steal a kiss from her even more creepy).

The villains are played by Josh Brolin, who makes Chaney a one-note doofus (he was played by Jeff Corey originally) and Barry Pepper replaces Robert Duvall as Ned Pepper, and comes close to equalling the great Duvall.

The Coens' dialogue is a tricky proposition to discuss. It is rich, but it is also so erudite as to come close to self-parody. Westerns and gangster films tend to have characters who speak in a kind of arch, contractionless patter that makes it sound as if they had memorized the dictionary. I think of when Pepper tells Mattie, "You do not varnish your opinion." I guess even outlaws had a measure of book learnin' back then. At least Cogburn, we are told, can't spell.

I should also add that the photography by Roger Deakins is gorgeous.

The film, unlike the Hathaway version, has an elegiac tone that is de rigeur in Westerns these days, with a coda that takes place years after the fact, with outlaws Cole Younger and Frank James making cameo appearances in a Wild West show. It's an ending that recalls the last images of Unforgiven, which gave its lead character Will Munny, a mythic quality. I suppose that's only fitting, as the Wild West is the American equivalent of Olympus.

My grade for True Grit: A-