Well, you make ne want to see it. Still . . . one wishes for a Christian film that engages faith - that acknowledges the role faith played in sustaining the people who built this country. Ah well . . . art has its allure in any case.

I loved the language of this film. I recently saw the original for the first time and wasn’t sure if the stiffness of the dialog was due to the wooden style of Glen Campbell or the acutal screenplay. In the remake it is clear that the language is almost a character of the novel. Maybe its intended to evoke the formality of the King James Bible and evoke a morality play??

I fell in love with the film upon it’s first declaration of, “Nothing is free in this life save the Grace of God.”  I was delighted to see the film kept this message to end, showing that even revenge came and a steep price.

Fine review that captures the essence and spirit of the movie. One note: the song is called “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms.” I grew up in the Baptist church and remember it well.

Thanks, JD. Yes, of course—“underneath the everlasting arms” is the phrase from Deuteronomy 33:27 that inspired the song, but you’re right about the title/lyric. (I also spent time in a Baptist church in my youth, but that song wasn’t a common one!)

> ...and the thoughts of the third man, alas, are lost forever.

It’s odd, about that.  I don’t recall what they did with it in the 1969 film (if the hanging scene was even included - if it was, I don’t remember it), but in the novel the Indian who is about to be hanged does not have his last words cut off as they are, so cruelly, in the Coens’ film.  What happens is this:

“The Indian was next and he said, ‘I am ready.  I have repented my sins and soon I will be in heaven with Christ my savior.  Now I must die like a man.’  If you are like me you probably think of Indians as heathens.  But I will ask you to recall the thief on the cross.  He was never baptized and never even heard of a catechism and yet Christ himself promised him a place in heaven.”

Another note that doesn’t make it into either film comes shortly thereafter, though its exclusion makes more sense given that it’s just some narrative speculation on Mattie’s part rather than something that actually happens in the events being described.  Of Judge Parker, she declares that:

“His manner was grave.  On his deathbed he asked for a priest and became a Catholic.  That was his wife’s religion.  It was his own business and none of mine.  If you had sentenced one hundred and sixty men to death and seen around eighty of them swing, then maybe at the last minute you would feel the need of some stronger medicine than the Methodists could make.  It is something to think about.”

In any event, a good review of a great movie.  I look forward to seeing it again soon, and, if possible, watching it back-to-back with The Night of the Hunter, to which film it makes a startlingly compelling companion piece.

@Nick Milne: Wow. Oh, my gosh, wow. As extraordinary as the film is, how much better it would have been with the addition of those two bits.

BTW, the hanging scene does occur in the 1969 film, but the condemned men don’t get any last words.

“Might be okay for teens and up.” What does that mean? Not recommended? Ambivalent? As they say (unfortunately a bit too often) these days…‘Man up!’...what is your verdict on the film?

Liam: It’s an age appropriateness guideline. It means some parents might not want to show the film to their younger teens. I myself will probably show it to my 12-year-old son. Parents and families are different and there is no one size fits all answer here. It should be pretty clear that I totally recommend the film for age-appropriate viewers. At Decent Films I rated it A, “Highly Recommended.”

Thanks for the clarification, Steven. I just wanted to know, rather than intuit (I suppose I’m a bit slow witted), if you personally thought your readers ought to catch the film.
Thanks again. ‘Totally’...love that Americanism. Good lad.

Ah, grand, Liam. Cheers.

Fine review of a fine film—and I say this as someone you might call a “devout atheist.” To me the double feature for this film would be “Unforgiven,” another somber morality tale in the Western tradition. And as for your recommendation—not only do parents vary in what they wish to expose their kids to, kids vary as well. Some are wholly unprepared for a film like this, while others can deal with a movie that lacks the normally obligatory Hollywood sugar sprinkled on the ending. We saw it with some Russian and Indian immigrants, and they couldn’t follow the dialogue—so that’s another caution. Pity, because my wife & I were laughing out loud at much of the language. Actually, the curious formalism of the language reminded me of that in Damon Runyon’s stories—so perhaps “Guys and Dolls” would be the double feature for this!

I’m glad to hear it was more than watchable. John Wayne’s performance was one of my favorite performances of my adolescent years, that I didn’t think the remake could do anything but sully that memory, but it sounds like there’s a lot of meat on the bone so to speak. Going into the Netflix queue for certain!

A nice review for sure, thank you. I found this film to be somewhat a the follow-up to “A Serious Man” (2009) in which the Coens introduced these themes through a modern-day telling of the story of Job. That film ended with a question mark, where as this one, in the closing credits answers the ringing questions through the song, “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms.”

These two men are very complex individuals and I deeply appreciate their offerings to us in the seeming capricious universe where good and evil can paradoxically exist in both a constant state of judgment and grace.

I felt like this movie, unlike the 1969 version, is a religious masterpiece.

Not only am I going to have to see the movie (I was a bit hesitant at first because I’m such a fan of the original), I’m going to have to re-read the book, which I read as a teenager in high school. I had completely forgotten about the parts of the novel that Nick excerpted (or at least they failed to make the impression on me back then - when I was fairly young and also a Southern Baptist) - as they made on me now when I just read Nick’s comment.

Thank you, Steven for this excellent review, and thank you, Nick for motivating me to read True Grit again.

I should add some cautions to recommending this fine film to friends:

1. We saw it with some Russian immigrants, and though they’re a very intelligent group of people, some of the subtleties of the script flew over their heads—either because of American historical references they were unfamiliar with, or because the wordplay was too quick for their English skills.

2. A devout Christian couple who we’re friends with disliked it actively—because the ads had led them to expect a peppy action-packed traditional Hollywood Western. They wanted a shoot-em-up and instead got a meditation on courage and culture. If they’d told me they were going to see it beforehand I might have been able to set their expectations correctly or gotten them to see something else. Though here the wife is Chinese and again I don’t think her English/American culture knowledge is sufficient for the film.

This made me ponder all the foreign films I’ll never be able to appreciate fully because the subtitles aren’t up to the subtleties of the script and/or I don’t know enough about that country’s culture and history. I know I could only really appreciate, say, “Kagemusha”—a great movie and one in keeping with the subject/tone of this blog, though not a Christian movie at all—because I’ve studied Japanese history and know a tiny bit about the language.

Bottom line: when you recommend “True Grit” to people, manage their expectations. For my Chinese/American couple I loaned them our copy of the John Wayne 1969 movie. They’ll like it a lot more.

For people like our Russian friends I should have waited for the DVD, then paused it every so often to add the needed cultural commentary. I’ve done this with some other Chinese friends who moved here last June knowing virtually nothing of American culture, and it’s enabled them to enjoy movies like “Iron Giant” and “Galaxy Quest” that they might not have gotten otherwise.

Ehkzu, thanks for both of your thoughtful comments. I’m not surprised Russian and Indian immigrants had a hard time with some of the dialogue—at times Suz and I strained to catch what Bridges’ Rooster was saying!

I am surprised that you think the Coen Brothers movies are at all nihilstic; I would say quite the opposite. They are set in the real, very nihilistic world, but their message is not nihilistic. It is very interesting that they left out the Indian’s last words—not having seen the film yet, but knowing their work, I would assume that was done on purpose because that is too much redemption too soon. In a Coen Bros movie you have to do the hard work of figuring it out yourself; they don’t want anyone saying anything obvious.

Gail, people like my conservative Christian wife just assume that any film by the Coen brothers will be nihilistic because of how their previous films struck them. Their films have been reliably snarky, and there’s often a certain chaotic quality to their films—tight, economical narratives are rare. So “True Grit” took them by surprise, since it does have a tight, coherent narrative, and isn’t snarky.

As for leaving out the Indian’s last words—of course you can’t put everything that’s in a novel into any 2 hr. movie. A feature film has got to be either a short story about the central characters and core plot of the film, or a kind of Cliff’s Notes version that skitters over everything so briefly that only some who has read the novel can follow it.

If I were the Coens I would have cut the Indian’s speech too, though I don’t know if they did it for the reasons I’d use: (1) the first hangee’s speech was long and hortative; the second was short an unrepentant. So making the third speech cut off fit the rhythm of the scene cinematically; (2) doing so conveyed the attitude towards Indians that those settlers in those times generally had; (3) cutting off his speech also showed a certain matter of fact quality about hanging crooks. It made the even less a unique tragic moment than simply one of the things that happened that day, with the lives snuffed out being regarded as eminently snuffable and not to be mourned over or commemorated in any way.

My 2 cents’ worth.

Of course it isn’t only Coen skeptics who are surprised by True Grit; many of their adoring fans are squinting curiously at the film wondering how it can be so apparently straightforward. Irony being the universal solvent that it is, the skeptic can always claim that the whole thing is tongue in cheek, and the more fools we for being duped. But I don’t find that reading persuasive.
 
I assume nothing coming into a Coen film. Anyone who thinks he has the Coens all figured out has my a priori skepticism. I think they are careful not to tip their hand, and their most characteristic films can easily support very contradictory readings. A Serious Man is a perfect example. My own opinion is that True Grit, like Fargo, is best read as a deeply moral film, but No Country for Old Men and Burn After Reading I consider very much on the nihilistic side of things.

I too loved the original “Tue Grit”, so I was a little aprehensive   about seeing this new rendition. But I was pleasantly surprised. The new
TRUE GRIT is a wonderful film, with its own special appeal.
Having just seen WINTER’S BONE with my wife and daughter, we
commented on how similar it was to TRUE GRIT. WINTER’S BONE could
have been called True Grit. The latter film though was more grittier.
But both films had great heroines.

“No Country for Old Men,” Mr. Greydanus, is definitely nihilistic from the point of view of several of the main characters, but let us not forget that the hero of the film played by Tommy Lee Jones is far from nihilistic.  Rahter he is schooled in old-fashioned values, dare I say Judeo-Christian Values, and it is essentially a modern-day western of what happens when the old code of the west meets up with the new code of much of the postmodern world.  The end result - a lack of breathing room - quite literally there is “Country for Old Men.”  It’s a gritty, it’s terrifying, but in a clever sort of way that only great art can evoke uplifting.  I will never forget the seminal scene where the charcacter played by Josh Brolin briefly agonizes in bed before deciding to go back to the scene of the massacre to give the dying drug-dealer a drink of water.  He, himself, lives by a code that it is no longer respected in the world he inhabits.  In the end, there is brief, grace-filled moment when the berserking lunatic - who he himself with his own vicious, random code - leaves his last victim be and just “rides” away.  Haven’t you ever read that Great Catholic Author - Flannary O’conner - she too was accused of nihilism in such stories as “A good man is hard to find.”  Well, a good man is hard to find - hard to find in O’Conner stories and often hard to find in Coen Brothers films - but when you do find them, even when they fall short and sometimes fall as victims to thier nihilistic pursuers - there is still no doubt that it is they - like any true martyr - who are the unforgettable heroes.  Loved your review but thought your failure to distinguish the nihilistic bent of many of their characters and settings from the much more morally laced cinematic intentions of the coens was unfair. 

As for True Grit, like most Coen Brother’s films, it gets better with each viewing. I firmly believe that along with Fargo and No Country it is their second great tragic masterpiece.  We may prefer the old west to the new but you can’t argue with the authenticity of the worlds which serve as the backdrop to both.

“No Country for Old Men,” Mr. Greydanus, is definitely nihilistic from the point of view of several of the main characters, but let us not forget that the hero of the film played by Tommy Lee Jones is far from nihilistic.  Rahter he is schooled in old-fashioned values, dare I say Judeo-Christian Values, and it is essentially a modern-day western of what happens when the old code of the west meets up with the new code of much of the postmodern world.  The end result - a lack of breathing room - quite literally there is “No Country for Old Men.”  It’s gritty; it’s terrifying; but, in a clever sort of way that only great art can evoke, it is uplifting.  I will never forget the seminal scene where the charcacter played by Josh Brolin briefly agonizes in bed before deciding to go back to the scene of the massacre to give the dying drug-dealer a drink of water.  He, himself, lives by a code that it is no longer respected in the world he inhabits.  In the end, there is a brief, grace-filled moment when the berserking lunatic - who he himself with his own vicious, random code that he nervously discards - leaves his last victim to be, after some convincing, and just “rides” away.  Haven’t you ever read that Great Catholic Author - Flannary O’conner? She too was accused of nihilism in such stories as “A good man is hard to find.”  Well, a good man is hard to find - hard to find in O’Conner stories and often hard to find in Coen Brothers films - but when you do find them, even when they fall short and sometimes fall as victims to thier nihilistic pursuers - there is still no doubt that it is they - like any true martyrs - who are the unforgettable heroes.  Loved your review but thought your failure to distinguish the nihilistic bent of many of their characters and settings from the much more morally laced cinematic intentions of the coens was unfair. 

As for True Grit, like most Coen Brother’s films, it gets better with each viewing. I firmly believe that along with Fargo and No Country it is their second great tragic masterpiece.  We may prefer the old west to the new but you can’t argue with the authenticity of the worlds which serve as the backdrop to both.

I read the review and rented this, and really did not like it.  In retrospect the entire film was an anti-western.  As Steven pointed out, the heroine pays the price for her vengeance, and the film closes with her living out her days as a bitter old maid.  It reveals the emptiness of revenge, but is not a film I would ever want to watch again.  I would compare it to the bloody videos you watch in drivers ed., they get the job done, but once is enough.
  The speech is irritating.  I liked the speech in “The Village”, and that was MUCH more believable than this.  For example, when Mattie shoots Tom Chaney, he says “You have broken one of my short-ribs”.  What?  Who would say something like that after getting shot?  I have seen harsher reactions from someone who stubs their toe.  Throughout the film everyone has this strange detachment from what is happening.  Mattie is kidnapped, but then offered coffee and bacon??  Rooster shoots a number of men from a distance, as cool as a cucumber.  Mattie shoots Tom Chaney like a cold blooded killer, but gets emotional when her horse gets shot. It just doesn’t add up.
  The climax of the film is the scene inside the hut, after that it fails to deliver.  Who the heck is Ned Pepper?  Why should we care if he lives or dies?  Besides being a fugitive, he seems a pretty nice guy, a gentleman almost.  Rooster doesn’t really care about anything, and its nice that he saves Mattie’s life, but he was just after the money mostly.
  As for Mattie, what is inherently likable about a 14 year old girl out for blood?  Her victory is empty, and ultimately unsatisfying.  I’m curious why so many liked this film, I really didn’t.

@ David Alcott:
 
Thanks for your comments. My take is almost 180 degrees from yours. You call True Grit an “anti-Western.” One of the most interesting labels I’ve seen applied to this film is “anti-anti-Western”—i.e., a Western that goes right through cynical deconstruction and out the other side. For example, Rooster’s apparent tall tale about riding at a lineup of opponents, which Mattie says doubtfully is “hard to believe,” turns out to be the unvarnished truth. Likewise, in the opening voiceover, old Mattie begins with the words, “People do not give it credence that a young girl could leave home and go off in the wintertime to avenge her father’s blood, but it did happen.”

I think you are too hard on Mattie. In the complicated tangle of motives for her pursuit of Tom Chaney is true filial piety and pursuit of justice. We take for granted the wheels of justice in the society in which we live. Mattie can’t call 911 or sit back while the police and the DA do their job. If she doesn’t move heaven and earth to find her father’s killer, he will go unpunished. Her motives are not pure, but they aren’t contemptible either.

Who says Mattie lives out her days as a bitter old maid? She is cranky and acerbic, sure, but that’s no sin. So was St. Jerome. Don’t forget it is old Mattie whose voiceover narration we hear in the beginning declaring, “There is nothing free but the grace of God.”

I couldn’t disagree more about the language. The language in The Village I found banal and unevocative; the language in True Grit is rich and full of rustic poetry, like elaborately hand-carved wood (I can’t remember where that metaphor comes from, but it’s not mine). I can’t think of one line of dialogue worth quoting from The Village, except to complain about it. True Grit is full of brilliantly quotable dialogue.