I doubt anyone could have predicted the overwhelming success that was the Coen brothers’ reinterpretation of Charles Portis’ novel True Grit, which had previously been made into a John Wayne film.
The Coens consistently make movies that function really well from scene to scene, often delivering tightly made sequences one after the other until it’s eventually apparent that the movie as a whole somehow transcends the sum of its parts. This frequently mystifies me, as it’s usually not until days later that the wholeness of a movie like Fargo or No Country coalesces in my mind and I finally appreciate what they were able to do.
True Grit is especially incredible in that it accomplishes this in the wordless sequence toward the end of the movie, combining the most gorgeous photographic work Roger Deakins has ever done with a perfect section of musical score by Carter Burwell. I don’t know how it works, or how it makes the movie all seem to come together at once for the most emotionally satisfying conclusion to a Coen movie to date, but the mystery is part of what makes it particularly great.
It’s also Jeff Bridges’ finest performance since the movie on the following page.
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