True Grit

Another excellent film from the Coen Brothers.

Before the start of True Grit, a quote from Proverbs 28:1 appears on the screen: “The wicked flee when no man pursueth.” This verse doesn’t just set the tone of Ethan and Joel Coen’s gritty Western; it also provides us with a lens to view it through. As do the words of the story’s heroine, who in an early scene muses: “You must pay for everything in this world. Nothing is free but the grace of God.” These two ideas combined exist purposefully as commentary. In fact, they’re almost necessary for the unfortunate moviegoers, and critics, who continue to misunderstand the Coen brothers, mistaking their work for hipster nihilism and missing its moral value altogether. As the “random” first scene in A Serious Man reminded us, their films are meant to be seen as parables.

Consequently, True Grit, based on the 1968 novel of the same name, doesn’t play like your average revenge flick, even though advertisements promise, “Retribution this Christmas.” Despite its simple storyline, the film offers profound insight into human nature and enlightens us on the harsh, and sometimes fatal, consequences of vengeance. It follows the spunky 14-year-old Mattie Ross, who believes herself to be a bearer of God’s justice and becomes bent on avenging her father’s murder. Joined by the drunken, eyepatch-wearing U.S. Marshal “Rooster” Cogburn (Jeff Bridges) and the haughty Texas Ranger La Boeuf (a mustached Matt Damon), Mattie sets off on a personal crusade after the killer, Tom Chaney (Josh Brolin).

Yet even though everything works out mostly as planned, the story doesn’t merely conclude with justice prevailing. Mattie's fall into a cave in the movie’s riveting climax represents her moral descent, and as we see in the film’s concluding moments, her thirst for revenge has its price. As necessary and gratifying as her justice may be, even Mattie can’t escape the truth of her previous words about justice and grace. In the final scene, she is shown as a grown woman, scarred because of her actions. Like Cogburn and La Boeuf, who carry around the weight of retribution, Mattie is portrayed as a tired soul calloused by her past. Physically, if not emotionally, she can never escape it.

While the humanity of the characters is fully present in the clever, unsentimental script, and is fully realized in Mattie’s dialogue, the performances hold it all together. As two cowboys worn down by killing, Jeff Bridges and Matt Damon are utterly convincing. Bridges’ Cogburn has taken to the bottle for his pain, and Damon’s La Boeuf tries to hide his vulnerability through pride. In many ways, the characters are sad: La Boeuf can’t be taken seriously, and Cogburn’s enemies mock him. They are, nevertheless, so flawed and pathetic that we can’t help but laugh. A stereotypical Texan, La Boeuf never stops talking about how everything is better in Texas, while Coburn’s grumpy attitude plays out in several memorable moments, like a time when Mattie talks to him outside an outhouse or a scene where he kicks two little Indian kids. Together, as they stubbornly try to take down Chaney their own separate ways, Cogburn and La Boeuf form a hilarious and unforgettable relationship that’s based as much on respect as it is exasperation, in the end, making their redemption all the better.

As the quirky humor demonstrates, True Grit is made effective and enlightening by its ability to entertain. Its moral implications are so subtly engrained into the story that they never make it feel didactic. That is genius of the Coen brothers. Their films have it all: smart scripts, remarkable dialogue, memorable characters, believable performances, stunning visuals but, most of all, depth. Not as dark or eccentric as prior works, True Grit may be the Coens’ most accessible film yet. It not only shows maturity and a continuous absorption in the divine, but the film confirms their true feelings about violence and just how misunderstood they are.

David Roark

True Grit Review

Directors: Ethan Coen, Joel Coen
Writers: Ethan Coen, Joel Coen, novel by Charles Portis
Cinematographer: Roger Deakins
Starring: Jeff Bridges, Hailee Steinfeld, Matt Damon, Josh Brolin, Barry Pepper
Studio/Running Time: Paramount Pictures, 110 min.

They’ve done it again. Joel and Ethan Coen have once again taken on a revered film genre. And as with comedy (The Big Lebowski), epic poem: (O Brother, Where Art Thou?); crime drama (Fargo, No Country for Old Men, Miller’s Crossing), they not only do the form justice; they actually improve upon it. In tackling the venerable Western, their choice couldn’t have been more daunting.

With True Grit, the Coens remake one of the better cowboy films of the 1960s, a film that influenced countless other films, including Clint Eastwood’s Unforgiven. They also take on the genre’s biggest star—John Wayne, who played the irascible marshal Rooster Cogburn in the original ’69 adaptation of Charles Portis’ straightforward and engaging novel. Casting, however, has never been a Coen weakness, and Jeff Bridges wholly embraces and reinvents the role for which Wayne received an Oscar.

Mattie Ross (Hailee Steinfeld) arrives to Fort Smith, Arkansas, supposedly just to bring back the body of her father, murdered by the now-fugitive Tom Chaney (Josh Brolin). But the young, strong-willed Ross demands justice and enlists the services of Cogburn, paying the one-eyed alcoholic to find Chaney and bring him back to hang. An unlikely alliance is created when she stubbornly insists on coming along and Texas Ranger LaBeouf (Matt Damon) joins in their pursuit. As Ross, the newcomer Steinfeld gives a performance worthy of many a seasoned actress and is already receiving award mentions for her supporting role, as is Bridges who interprets Cogburn at times as a buffoon but also as a true western hero. While drunk he engages the serious LaBeouf in a braggadocious shooting contest that eventually leads to LaBeouf’s exit from the group. Damon’s performance is a vast improvement over singer/non-actor Glen Campbell’s version in the original. LaBeouf strives to maintain an aura of self-assurance and bravery which Damon nails with his stilted delivery. Brolin’s pitiful, comical and dark appearance as Chaney is brief but wonderfully memorable.

There is a simplicity about the performances in True Grit that jives well with the rich landscapes and the authentically recreated, urban settings of nineteenth century Arkansas and the Indian Territory. That, and the genuine attire of the times, allows the Coens to create a world where the actors can play real characters, not caricatures of reality. It’s a talent that keeps begging the question, “What’s next?”

By Tim Basham

About A Girl

The 1967 movie version of Charles Portis' novel, True Grit, is an excellent movie that captures the spirit of John Wayne in his epic portrayal of U.S. Marshal Rooster Cogburn. But for all intents and purposes, the novel was really about the growth of a young woman, Mattie Ross, who narrates the written version and again stars in the Coen Brothers' 2010 remake. Sure, Cogburn is still a polarizing figure of great proportions, but this time around, Ross seems to get her due.

Mattie (Hailee Steinfeld) plays a male role in this late 19th century Western. She's observant, good with "figures," independent, stubborn, and naive enough to believe that men are men, and criminals will be punished. She's so sure of what she believes that she presses on after the murder of her father by "the coward Tom Chaney" (Josh Brolin) until she gets the law's attention in the persona of Cogburn. Mattie knows her stuff: she knows the Bible better than the landlady, bartering better than the businessman who previously took her father to the cleaners, and herself better than anyone else in town knows themselves.

But Mattie can't bring back her father, and she can't capture his killer without help.

If this wasn't a Western, it would go a number of ways, which might involve forgiveness, Mattie's death, or a plethora of ways that wouldn't make sense. Instead, Mattie calmly watches a public hanging (the Coens can't help but augment the joy that the mob takes in the deaths of the criminals) and steadfastly pushes through the Old Testament "eye for an eye" justice that she's been raised with. This is frontier justice, and it's clear that without justice, there can be no peace. Mattie has to make things right because her family can't, her mother and brother are too weak, and she has to see to it that her father's memory is redeemed by the payment of blood.

Those of you who have seen Coen movies before know that this is right up their alley. It's no surprise that the level of violence here is higher than the 1967 version, but it's still dampened by the PG-13 rating. It's as if the Coens did a 1960s Western their way—same spirit and all, and a pleasant matinee afternoon for the whole family. They have in mind that the villains will pay but that the heroes will be marked by their effort, refusing to give in under the weight or pressure to give up but still scarred by the sacrifice to make it right again.

All of this leads me to say that Cogburn is a Christ-figure... in the wilderness. In town, he merely appears as a man, just like all of the other men, bent by the concerns of his job and undeterred by the twenty-three men that he's killed. But in the wilderness, it's his code which sets him apart, whether it's rescuing LeBoeuf (Matt Damon) or taking a bullet intended for someone else, risking his life for a fourteen-year-old girl or doing a job without being paid his wages. Some might argue just as articulately that it's Mattie who changes Rooster or who reminds him why he is a marshal in the first place; the dialogue isn't such that we are proselytized to much, but the outcomes for the characters remains the same.

Rooster changes for the better or exhibits a better self; Mattie becomes a self-sufficient woman in community but recognizes her own limitations; justice is served. It's classic Western material, and enough to make me think that this doesn't replace Wayne's Grit but it does make for a different version of the same story.


Jacob Sahms

Gritty Reality Hints at True Hope

“You must pay for everything in this world, one way or another… there is nothing free except the grace of God.”

Following the murder of her father by hired hand Tom Chaney, a 14-year-old farm girl sets out to capture the killer and hires Reuben J. “Rooster” Cogburn, the toughest U.S. marshal she can find, known as a man with “True Grit.”

The question is, however: what IS true grit? Who in the film truly evinces this? What do we REALLY need to secure justice, or to show grace, and does the film leave us in a place of hope or despair for achieving either in this life? This incredible, well-received film depicts the harsh realities of life with a few hopeful hints toward the everlasting arms that can sustain us, and we will address all these ideas and much more or next class meeting 9/23.

Hope to see you there!

The Blind Side

The Blind Side is a 2009 American semi-biographical drama film. It is written and directed by John Lee Hancock, and based on the 2006 book The Blind Side: Evolution of a Game by Michael Lewis.[2][3] The storyline features Michael Oher, an offensive lineman who plays for the Baltimore Ravens of the NFL.

In chapter 2, Christian Thing, Coach Cotton pleads his case for Big Mike's admission in to Wingate Christian school under the guise of the right thing to do.  This theme seems recurrent throughout the film as characters act under these pretenses without much examination of possible ulterior motives.  We also are very capable of 'acting' without either self-examination or time in prayer.

Deuteronomy 13:18

¹⁸ Yes. Obediently listen to God, your God. Keep all his commands that I am giving you today. Do the right thing in the eyes of God, your God.


In chapter 11, Comfort Levels, Leigh Anne is bombarded with questions and snide remarks in regards to her families acceptance and sheltering of Big Mike.  Her 'friends' question her motives, judgement and even reference past familial sin.  Any ministry worth doing comes at a price and will cause others to pose like questions.  

1 Timothy 4:6-14

^6-10You've been raised on the Message of the faith and have followed sound teaching. Now pass on this counsel to the followers of Jesus there, and you'll be a good servant of Jesus. Stay clear of silly stories that get dressed up as religion. Exercise daily in God—no spiritual flabbiness, please! Workouts in the gymnasium are useful, but a disciplined life in God is far more so, making you fit both today and forever. You can count on this. Take it to heart. This is why we've thrown ourselves into this venture so totally. We're banking on the living God, Savior of all men and women, especially believers.
 ^11-14Get the word out. Teach all these things. And don't let anyone put you down because you're young. Teach believers with your life: by word, by demeanor, by love, by faith, by integrity. Stay at your post reading Scripture, giving counsel, teaching. And that special gift of ministry you were given when the leaders of the church laid hands on you and prayed—keep that dusted off and in use.

In chapter 25, Protect Mode, Leigh Anne finally seems to turn introspective and begins to question her motives in regards to Big Mike.  Sean seems willing to help her find the answers that she's looking for, but instead of driving the point and purpose home, settles for a joke instead.  Unfortunately life mimics art sometimes as God honoring, honest dialogue can be as evasive in our real lives as those portrayed in film as well.

John 15:9-15

^9-10"I've loved you the way my Father has loved me. Make yourselves at home in my love. If you keep my commands, you'll remain intimately at home in my love. That's what I've done—kept my Father's commands and made myself at home in his love.
 ^11-15"I've told you these things for a purpose: that my joy might be your joy, and your joy wholly mature. This is my command: Love one another the way I loved you. This is the very best way to love. Put your life on the line for your friends. You are my friends when you do the things I command you. I'm no longer calling you servants because servants don't understand what their master is thinking and planning. No, I've named you friends because I've let you in on everything I've heard from the Father.