Film Review: Joel & Ethan Coen - True Grit (America, 2010)

Joel and Ethan Coen – True Grit (2010)

The second foray into the Western genre for the Coen Brothers proves to be much more lighthearted and old-fashioned than their first, but also packs significantly less punch. While No Country for Old Men can be seen as a bleak meditation and a modern Western, True Grit is a very straightforward film, a classical throwback Western. It’s much better than the horribly cynical A Simple Man, their last outing (although the sublimely creepy dibbuk introduction sequence of that film might be one of the best things the brothers ever filmed and makes me wonder what they would do with something like The Golem by Gustav Meyrinck), or the empty and revoltingly stupid Burn After Reading.

By the end of the film I was surprised that it had taken a sudden and rather unexpected turn into classical Hollywood cliché when it tried to up the ante needlessly during what was already a tense resolution sequence. For a moment all the smart and skilled characterization was thrown out of the window to make the protagonists appear more heroic than was needed or simply to get them from one place to the other – it jarred with the rest of the movie, which was kept realistic and interesting by the three excellent leads.

I don’t know the John Wayne original, so I cannot comment on any departures in plot or character. Hailee Steinfeld is excellent as the street-smart fourteen year old Maddie Ross who sets out to find the murderer of her father by all means available, balancing effortlessly between preternatural wisdom and daring and childlike touches. A couple of scenes even seem to play subtly with her maturity and ripening sexuality, which considering that it is an American mainstream feature might not be entirely intended but is still engaging.

Jeff Bridges has a lot of fun with the role of grouchy Marshall Rooster Cogburn, who is kept well this side of realism and is more of an archetype than a true character. Still, few American actors can do this as well as him and he doesn’t slide into the Dude in a Western territory and chooses not to emulate the role that fused him and the Coen brothers together except in little details. Perhaps this is unavoidable, but it doesn’t distract.

Matt Damon plays it relatively safe, but competently so. The banter, with him usually ending up as the butt of the jokes, is often hilarious. He plays the thankless role of straight man with aplomb.

The most effective sequences are the surreal and often exceedingly funny parts for which the Coen brothers are rightly known. The hanged man and briefly afterwards the dentist in the crazed shamanic bear costume must rank as absolute highlights. The darkness is kept to a bearable minimum, mainly because of the absence of cynicism. I found A Simple Man which has zero violence to be so much harder to watch because of the total absence of anything resembling humanity. The actors of True Grit infuse the film with humanity and warmth and turn it into an exciting, if occasionally quirky, mainstream action Western which can almost be considered a family film. Nothing too exciting or daring, True Grit remains a serviceable fare.

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Film Review: Anton Corbijn - The American (America, 2010)

Anton Corbijn – The American (2010)

Having spent a week of the past autumn in Florence and Siena, seeing Tuscany with all its heavy clouds that seem like vast shrouds stretched all the way from the ground to cover the gods high above, is an immediate relief and a joy for me. Much more so since Corbijn, as a photographer, has a keen visual sense and while his Italy is kept significantly cooler than it would be through my own modest lens, it is simply a joy to watch. Good visuals make one relaxed, enable one to take whatever unfolds in reflectively, without the hectic emotional investment that most modern films demand. In that The American reminded me a little of Jim Jarmusch’s wonderful and utterly cool and unflappable The Limits of Control.

The story follows Jack or Eduardo or Signor Farfalle, as he is called in turn by both a prostitute and a female assassin. Jack is an assassin and weapon’s expert. The opening shows him enjoying a beautiful day in a hut in the Northern European woods together with a beautiful woman, who reclines on his shoulder, naked. They get dressed and cross the frozen lake to go into a nearby village when they are attacked by a gunman. He is obviously out for Jack. Jack shoots him, skillfully, and then – after a moment's thought and to the viewer's shock – he shoots the woman in the back of her head.

The film has no obvious explanations, but watching and listening to what is going on, it is not hard to fashion the story. Details are unnecessary and background details are limited and sparse in what turns out to be a highly stylized version of European spy thrillers from the 1970s. The setting is, as already mentioned, Tuscany, where the assassin is sent by his boss to hide out and complete a final mission. Ronin, by John Frankenheimer, is an obvious parallel, but Ronin is fleshy and demonstrative, while The American remains aloof and bordering on a parable.
The nature of his profession makes Jack a loner and supremely paranoid, something which is marvelously played with in a tense picnic scene between Jack and Clara, a prostitute who falls for him. The characters are sketches, but skillful sketches, and it is not hard to project oneself into any of them. Besides Jack and Clara there are a not entirely pure priest who attempts to befriend Jack and a read-headed, steel-eyed female assassin who orders a custom-made gun from Jack. The most effective scenes are scenes that bring the underlying tension close to the surface, although it never breaks it entirely, not even during the few faster moments. The film is slowly paced, rarely demonstrative and never abandons its cool and atmosphere. Everything is hinted at in masterful images, whether it is Jack haunted by the murder of the woman or the laconic and moving climax.

There is not much to say about the film, but it is one of those beautiful things that can be enjoyed in complete silence. I am sure that many people will consider the ending predictable, but that is beside the point. There is enough room for the viewer to arrange all the feelings and all the consequences so that they have the full impact and that alone is a rarity in modern American cinema. Of course this is not an American production - race and cultural context don't play a big role. The American could well be the Outsider and as such he might be a self-portrait of director Corbijn (he pretends to be a photographer), who has spoken about the loneliness of his job and of many travels in interviews.

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