True Grit (2010) True Grit (1969): Which One'sGot It?

 What with all the Oscar talk about the Coen Brothers' re-visoned True Grit, I thought I'd go back and take a fresh look at the 1969 original. As it turns out the similarities are remarkable, although, of course, they are both taken from the same novel, and both screenplays seem to be earnest efforts to faithfully translate the book to the screen.

 

  I've heard a lot of commentary suggesting that the 2010 True Grit is more faithful to the text than its predecessor, but I suspect that this is only partly true. Then again, I haven't read the book, so I can't say. Who cares? We are dealing with a different medium, and what's important to me and most viewers has got to be the cinematic experience. Does it work? Is it captivating? Entertaining? Moving?

 

 Certainly the current edition is grittier. The cinematography, by the estimable Roger Deakins, is moody and beautiful, in an arid, unvarnished sort of way. Not as amazing as his No Country For Old Men, however. Lucien Ballard was a solid director of photography for the earlier film (and many other westerns, as well, including the landmark Wild Bunch in the same year) but his landscapes seem a bit too pretty, cutting against the drama. His True Grit is very 1960s Technicolorama, and this makes the whole project feel a bit dated.

  The male characters are dirtier, orneryer, deeper, more craven and more desperate in the current film. In 1969, Robert Duvall's Ned Pepper was a villain pretty much because we were told he was. He could just as easily have beeen playing a deputy sheriff - clean cut, upright, ruggedly handsome. By contrast, in the current movie, Barry Pepper's Ned Pepper (cute, huh?) looks, acts and smells like the wily, deadly outlaw he is supposed to be. Jeff Corey, as  the hunted scoundrel Tom Chaney,  plays a rougher, meaner bad guy in the 1969 film, but he still seems like a cardboard stereotype bad guy, notwithstanding the charcoal mark on his cheek; and in stark contrast, Josh Brolin's Chaney is definitely a creep, murderer, dangerous to be around. Quincy and Moon, two more bad guys are well played in both films, especially Dennis Hopper as Moon in the earlier movie.

 

The LeBoeff character is played mostly for comic relief and as a mirror on Rooster. Where Rooster is cynical, LeBoeff is sincere and earnest. While Rooster is a drunk, LeBoeff is sober. Rooster is a sartorial mess and leBoeff is relatively fastidious (especially so in the new version). LeBoeff is also younger, handsomer and seems to hold some sort of attraction  for Maddy. As between Glen Campbell and Matt Damon, the acting/characterization is - surprisingly - somewhat of a draw.  Damon is far the better actor, but this is not one of his stronger efforts.

   

 Hailee Steinfeld's Maddy is more appropriately dressed (historically speaking), and somehow looks and sounds more like the tough-as-nails 19th century girl she's supposed to be than does Kim Darby in the same role back in 1969. Darby was encouraged to show the more sensitive, emotional side of her character to a greater degree and got to cuddle her horse, cry a little, and shriek when she was in danger. She was ok, but not very believable. The vulnerability of this girl is more subtly portrayed in the Coens' vision, and Steinfeld is able to give a more nuanced performance to let us see the girl under Maddy's steely veneer. Whereas Darby went on to a long but not particularly distinguished career, mostly on TV, there is a real sense that Steinfeld could be the real deal, and I am certainly interested to see what she'll do next. 

But what about Rooster? Who was better - the Duke or the "Dude"? Well, that may be a draw, pardner. John Wayne wore his eye patch on his left eye while Jeff Bridges wore his on the right. Wayne was 62 when his True Grit was released, while Bridges was 61. Wayne built an iconic career playing cowboys, good and bad, mostly good - sturdy, upright and tough. He sat on a horse in the most casual, natural way, as though born in the saddle. He walked - strode - like he was saddle sore, and didn't give a shit. He spoke like John Wayne. He wasn't so much playing a new character in True Grit, as playing one permutation of a character he had been developing for 30 years. To his credit, the Rooster Cogburn he etched in his performance is a bit creaky and shopworn, a believable drunkard, and an unapologetic killer - he just made kinda sure that his corpses were generally bad guys. Rooster couldn't really understand the idea that bad guys were entitled to court justice, with lawyers and such asking a bunch of fool questions. Although lethal to the outlaws, Wayne's Rooster  rather quickly
develops a fatherly fondness for Maddie, and it shows.

The Bridges version of the one-eyed marshall is, again, grittier in style than his predecessor: he mumbles, stumbles, and is more consistently ornery (and drunk). Bridges is a much more versatile actor than the Duke (and, in fact, more of an actor), and not primarily associated with a single persona, and for both of these reasons, it's easier for us to suspend our disbelief and forget he's acting. And he's good enough on the horsey thing. On the other hand, he almost overplays the alcoholic characterization, to the point where his eventual derring do in the climactic scenes seems superhuman for the wretch Cogburn.

Henry Hathaway, the director of the first True Grit, had been directing features since the 1930's and was 71 in 1969. His direction seems assured but not particularly imaginative. This is a high budget genre film, but a genre film nonetheless. The movie has a light, almost comic touch much of the time, perhaps too much so to be taken seriously. The Coens' version was made to be taken seriously, perhaps too much so! So while their story retains some comic elements, many of these are in the ironic vein.Thus, we have the stilted formal speech, absent contractions, cuss words, or any semblance to how these characters (certainly the villains) would actually have spoken. I understand this may have been how the book was written, but as I noted at the outset, this is a movie, not a book. The unrealistic, almost humorous, style of speech contrasts ironically (but perhaps not usefully) with the directors' and cinematographer's successful efforts to create a very realistic look and feel for the movie in all other respects.

In this viewer's opinion, the John Wayne movie is fun, light entertainment, and was intended as such. The Coen's version is richer in detail and characterization and more beautifully shot, but somehow falls a little short of the artistic mark.