To wit; I don't like a lot of Westerns. I find a lot of them are horrifically violent, one dimensional and infuriatingly male. Which is to say that they don't have a lot of emotional arc to them. Some of the ones that I do like are Howard Hawks' RED RIVER with John Wayne and Montgomery Clift, TOM HORN with Steve McQueen, and Clint Eastwood's UNFORGIVEN. They all had stories that had a feminine pulse to them. The men were killers oftimes, but they knew that there were consequences to their actions, oftimes at the hands of the women in the story. (I omitted RIO BRAVO and STAGECOACH from my list as I haven't seen them yet.
The Coen Brothers' latest offering, TRUE GRIT, is a western filled with violent men, but whose heartbeat is that of a determined young girl. I haven't seen the original film of TRUE GRIT, but I can't imagine that it was any better than this remarkable reimagining of the original Charles Portis novel about a young girl who hires a federal marshall to capture her father's killer.
Jeff Bridges has an extraordinary time taking on the only role John Wayne won an Oscar for, and unlike Wayne (who always played Wayne) Bridges loses himself completely in the part of an aging, overweight, harddrinking curmudgeonly lawman. We forget that this is indeed Jeff Bridges, the Dude. This is not the beautiful young Adonis of THE LAST PICTURE SHOW, or TUCKER, or even STARMAN. This is an old man, crusty, curmudgeonly and wonderfully human. If anyone had doubts as to Bridges' ability as an actor, then certainly this role should forever disspell such a foolish notion. He makes one forget John Wayne, if such a thing is possible. He is boorish, rude, cantankerous, violent and just plain wonderful. A joy to watch and listen to.
But one actor alone isn't the reason this movie is so good. This is an ensemble piece, almost a chamber piece, albeit a chamber piece on horseback. Also along for the festivities and proving again that he really is one of the best actors in movies, (and not just an A-List movie star) Matt Damon plays the part of Texas Ranger Le Beouf (pronounced Le Beef) a smallish supporting part that any competent actor could have played quite well. In Damon's hands, this lumpen, not particularly intelligent middle aged man becomes funny and rather touching in his rather egotistical view of his abilities. In his scenes with young Mattie, he is almost disturbingly creepy, since it is apparent that he's attracted to this willful young girl, inspite of the fact that she irritates him exceedingly with her high handed intellect. It is to Damon's credit that he makes Le Beouf unattractive and somewhat repellent instead of going for the dazzling movie star turn he could very easily have done instead.The Coen Bros. have wisely stuck to the original Portis novel, and made the young heroine Mattie Ross the heart of the story. In the casting of Hailee Steinfeld, they really have "A Star is Born" on their hands. She is merely magnificent, and in her work with Bridges and Damon, she very often steals the scenes effortlessly. She is the emotional heart of the movie, and her combined ferocity and softness make it virtually impossible to watch anyone else when she is onscreen. I suspect she may very well win an Oscar for this. Her face on screen is plain, beautiful, childish, womanly, wise, foolish and sublime all at once. Her voice is cutting, and you really do believe she is as brilliant as she thinks she is. What is even more remarkable is that Steinfeld was only thirteen when she played this part of a fourteen year old Presbyterian firebrand. Kim Darby in the original movie with Wayne was in her twenties.
As usual, the Coens have served up a sumptuous visual feast, with mud scarred earth, grey skies, dirt and death surrounding the characters every where. They have stayed true to the spirit of Portis' novel, with a brilliant screenplay which has a hard edged Presbyterian leanness to it, tough and wiry, much like its young heroine. In keeping the focus on Mattie, as Portis did, they brilliantly leave the audience wondering, as a much older Mattie walks away into the dusk at the end, who it truly was who possessed "True Grit" after all, in this marvellous coming of age story.
The other film, Darren Aronofsky's BLACK SWAN is almost a companion piece to his Mickey Rourke film of a few years ago called THE WRESTLER, in that they both deal with the extremes a performer sometimes goes through in order to achieve greatness. Having been surrounded by ballet dancers for a number of years, I would say a great deal of what goes on in this film is accurate; the physical pain, the endless hours of rehearsal in the pursuit of perfection, and the crushing psychological disappointment of not being "good enough" when no matter what you do, or how good you become, the body fails under the punishment it is put through. Ballet is not what I would call, an easy art form. Not everyone is designed for it. In fact, very few are. It requires a specific body type in both men and women, and the body is either there, or it isn't. If it is, and it can be trained, so much the better. But lasting through the years of torturous training is the real trick. Dancers' professional lives are shockingly short. One torn ligament, one sprained knee and it's all over.
This film to its credit, makes us aware of all of that in subtle ways that are as disturbing as they are effective. The movie is a little over the top, and I suspect in many ways, it wanted to be an Ingmar Bergman film. Indeed, I wondered, while watching this movie what the Swedish auteur would have made of it. Nobody knew the soul of an artist like Bergman, nor the torments they went through, or how they tortured others through their single minded devotion to their art. I kept being reminded of his AUTUMN SONATA when I watched this film, and there were moments when I wished Aranofsky had toned down the CGI effects, and just let the actors do their work. The screenplay, by Mark Heynman, Andres Heinz, and John McLaughlin was very effective but a little unbelievable at times. I mean really, could anyone dance the last act of Swan Lake with a life threatening stab wound? Little things like that gave me pause, but, that being said, it's still a remarkable film, and one well worth seeing.
A fragile young ballerina named Nina Sayers (stunningly played by Natalie Portman, but more on that in a moment) undergoes a psychotic breakdown in order to achieve brilliance in the dual role of Odile and Odette in the ballet Swan Lake. Her life is one of brutal emotional repression. She lives with her mother (a failed dancer, played by the brilliant Barbara Hershey) who infantilizes her, allows her no privacy, and calls her obsessively on the phone constantly. Into this mix, Nina must deal with the harsh competitive world of the ballet, where careers are made or broken by the whim of artistic directors. Nina's artistic director Thomas (a deliciously cruel Vincent Cassel) chooses her, berates her, abuses her and like everyone around her is completely unaware of the toll the part of the Black Swan has taken on his dancer's fragile psyche. An older dancer, (played by Winona Ryder with a wonderfully harsh fury) attempts suicide after Nina replaces her. Another new young dancer named Lily (a dazzling Mila Kunis) becomes Nina's friend, but appears to be angling for her role and her position as Thomas' new star, thus adding to Nina's psychosis. As the movie progresses, Nina starts to come undone, and as events occur, (or do they?) and opening night draws ever closer, we start to wonder whether or not any of this is real.
Just as Mattie Ross has to deal with harsh brutalities from the environment she finds herself in, Nina too must deal with the almost cruel harshness she faces daily in the world of ballet. These cruelties however, pale in comparison to the ones she creates for herself. Bulemic, possibly hallucinating, fiercely sexually repressed and with a wild anger struggling to break free, Nina has to cope with the possibility that she can trust no one, and that everyone is out to deny her the one thing she is living for, and that is to triumph in Swan Lake. As the plot progresses, and she sees suspects at every turn, she starts to unravel when she fears that her greatest fears will come to pass; that she will lose this role or worse, not be perfect in it. Nina sacrifices everything she has in her pursuit of perfection, a pursuit that even Thomas tells her is not possible.
Aronofsky's film is a cold, austere and bleak place to be in. It is also brilliant, cruel and remorseless. It portrays the harsh reality, the sheer physical torture of a dancer's life, and spares the audience nothing of the pain of bloodied feet, battered joints and the sheer agony of not being quite good enough. Technique is not enough this film seems to say, for Nina has technique, flawless technique. What she requires for the part of the Black Swan is passion and sexual danger. Nina is hopelessly inadequate to this task. Having been repressed for so long, she does not know how to access this side of her personality without involving some real risk. Indeed, the relentless harassment of both Thomas and Lily entreating Nina to visit this dark side of herself threatens to destroy her already fragile hold on her sanity.
As Nina, Natalie Portman gives the performance of her career. Her initial appearances in the film have her stunningly resemble Audrey Hepburn, and one could imagine Hepburn having played this part as a young woman, as she was after all, a trained ballet dancer before she became an actress. As well, her legendary fragility was always best juxtaposed against her steely strength. Portman has much of the same quality here.
This is to take nothing away from Portman's accomplishment. Her eyes, (always her best feature) are frequently black with pain, and when she snaps, it is not the CGI special effects we notice, as much as it is her repressed fury pouring forth in a terrible geyser of madness. She embodies Nina's fragility effortlessy, and her limpid timidity is painful to watch. When she tries pathetically to reach out, to claim her own measure of control of her fate, she is remorselessly smacked down, and the audience winces in shared recognition of that awful moment. This is not an easy thing for an actor to do; to involve the audience to such a degree that we not only feel the character's pain but react right along her. That Portman has done that and taken us with her so effortlessly on her shoulder is a testimony to her great gifts as an actor. That she apparently spent a year or so training to be physically believable as a prima ballerina should not be surprising, as any good, thorough professional actor would do the same. But that she should take that and us on such a harrowing journey of the artist's soul is a revelation not to be missed.
In the end, Nina does indeed achieve greatness and breaks through the restraints that held her back from perfection. Like Mattie Ross, Nina too loses part of herself to achieve her goal, but unlike Mattie, who triumphs, Nina's tragedy is far too dear a price to pay.
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