True Grit

True Grit is not a film that can be done justice by a retelling of its synopsis. At first glance, the movie’s plot seems like your stereotypical, run-of-the-mill Western, complete with the shootouts, the Indians, and the Texas rangers. But a run-of-the-mill Western this is not, as the Coen brothers have been able to do something with the seemingly bland story to transform it into something of value. What this “something” is is quite unclear. Of course there’s the Coen brothers trademark of making ridiculous characters seem real, and there’s the ever-present ability to make us feel for these farers on-screen, to “break the fourth wall”, if you will.

True Grit is full of heart. What the Coen brothers have here is an art-house interpretation of your dry Western novel, sans the pretense of either. The characters are all fleshed out and have a past. They’re believable, regardless of their ridiculous demeanor, and their interactions are fitting. Never does the film seem cheesy, as all of the emotion serves to highlight the difficulty of the mission at hand, rather than to create roadblocks; two completely different purposes.

For once, the setting of a Western seems habitable. Still propped up against unforgiving deserts of caustic sand and rugged, sentinel-like mountains far in the distance, the human habitats seem authentic, and there is a fortunate lack of the “rough bunch” cliche that plagues these frontier-based films. No cliche saloon scenes, no cliche sheriff’s office scenes, and no cliche town square duel.

As should be expected of the Coen brothers, the dialog is marvelous to listen to. As I sat in the movie theater, I found myself thinking about how privileged I was to be able to witness such clarity of meaning. That said, True Grit is a flood of words. The first dam to break is the Mattie Ross character, and from then, just know to brace yourself. A small caveat, this warning comes in the “you’re about to experience an intense roller coaster ride” type of bracing yourself, as opposed to the “you’re about to experience a nuclear blast” type.

The characters are some of my favorite within recall. Jeff Bridges plays a brilliant Rooster Cogburn: nasty, lazy, and gritty. He plays the character with the grace of Jabba the Hutt, and as well he should. Hailee Steinfeld, a benefactor of the Coens’ uncanny ability to pick up actors from the bowels of who-knows-where, is dim, but brilliant. The luster of her performance hinges on her ability to code-switch between cold, calculating, precocious businesswoman and tender, loving, emotional young girl. Matt Damon’s LaBoeuf is sheer brilliance. More than an ability to delve into both the brokenness and pride of a character, the difference between this character and, say, Jason Bourne gives testament to Damon’s formidability as an actor. Indeed, this is a character unlike any of Damon’s previous ones, and he plays it better than any other.

If it seems strange, or even superfluous that I’ve used the word “brilliant” to describe a great deal of the film, that’s because “brilliant” is the only fitting word. “Brilliant,” which connotes a superior manipulation of intellect, is just right. Undoubtably, True Grit will outlive the Coens, and for Western fans and Coen brothers fans alike, it is a must-see.