True Grit

People do not give it credence that a fourteen-year-old girl could leave home and go off in the wintertime to avenger her father’s blood but it did not seem so strange then, although I will say it did not happen every day.

So begins Charles Portis’ epic novel, True Grit, the story of Mattie Ross and her presumptuous quest for justice. When her father’s killer is not pursued by any “law,” she takes it upon herself to dispense retribution for the cold-blooded killing, enlisting the help of federal marshal Reuben “Rooster” Cogburn, full of “true grit” she had heard; and inheriting a Texas Ranger who had been on the killer’s trail for four months, chasing him on charges of the murder of a senator.

I love a good Western and this one includes a woman (and adolescent!) of substance, something too often missing from great Westerns. Mattie’s fortitude, determination, and abundance of her own “grit” drive the heart of the story. She is impudent and pious and has no time for the vices of men, but she takes aim and makes herself the center of the story.

Ryan and I saw the movie at the Hopkins “dollar” theatre and thought it was fantastic. The Coen brothers, St. Louis Park natives and direction/production dynamos, brought the book to life beautifully. It was one of those films that make me understand why cinema is an art form. It doesn’t hurt that Jeff Bridges is brilliant and Matt Damon is brilliant and foxy, but the cinematic scope of the film both brought the story to life and gave it an authenticity often missing in films as producers seek to glamorize stories. The Coen brothers are not overly concerned with the characters’ beauty, but of their internal fiber and the beauty of human nature as it lies, flawed and filthy though it may be.

I haven’t yet seen the original version of the film but hope to soon. I highly recommend both the novel and the new film, though it is visually a bit graphic, but such was the nature of the West.