Monthly Archives: June 2011

Well, we’ve already tried one double move review (127 Hours vs Nordwand), but that involved movies unrelated except in general terms concerning genre and themes.  Today we try something a little different:  A double movie review of an original award-winning film and its award-nominated remake.  In both versions, the lead actor received an Academy Award nomination for Best Actor, with John Wayne taking home the Oscar for his performance and Jeff Bridges placing as an also-ran behind Colin Firth’s tour de force performance in The King’s Speech.  So, how do these two films compare?  Let’s take a look.

True Grit

Western, Drama; U.S.; 1969; 127 minutes; directed by Henry Hathaway

Medium:  Netflix Blu-ray (also available in DVD)

Rating:  4.5 (5-point system)

Versus

True Grit

Western, Drama; U.S.; 2010; 110 minutes; directed by Ethan Coen & Joel Coen

Medium:  Netflix Blu-ray (Available on DVD)

Rating:  4.5 (5-point system)

First up, True Grit (1969):

Young Mattie Ross’s (a rather stilted Kim Darby) father is murdered by lazy, drunken ranch hand Tom Chaney (portrayed with more than adequate menace by a very talented Jeff Corey), who then escapes into Oklahoma Indian territory.  Fearing that her father’s killer will never be brought to justice, Mattie hires the federal marshal with the meanest reputation, Reuben “Rooster” Cogburn (John Wayne in his only Oscar-winning performance).  Unfortunately, Mattie’s choice in federal marshals is fraught with human frailties.  Cogburn is just as lawless, untrustworthy, and conniving as the men he pursues—a drunk and former bank robber who uses the powers of his office to get away with sometimes killing his quarry in cold blood.

Also pursuing Tom Chaney is Texas Ranger La Boeuf (Glenn Campbell in a far from memorable, almost cardboard-like piece of acting).  With a manufactured charm and good-guy image more befitting Dudley Do-right of the Mounties, La Beouf subverts the conditions of Mattie’s “contract” with Cogburn, enticing the federal marshal into joining forces for a far more lucrative reward for Chaney.

Eventually, and very reluctantly, the three team up to go after Chaney despite knowing that this pursuit will put them in a direct confrontation with the nefarious and deadly “Lucky” Ned Pepper (tepidly portrayed by Robert Duvall) and his gang of cutthroats, with whom Chaney has now thrown in his lot.

Next, True Grit (2010):

Young Mattie Ross’s (charmingly and convincingly portrayed by a very talented Hailee Steinfield) father is murdered by lazy, drunken ranch hand Tom Chaney (played by Josh Brolin far less menacingly than the part requires), who escapes into Oklahoma Indian territory.  Fearing that her father’s killer will never be brought to justice, Mattie hires the federal marshal with the meanest reputation, Reuben “Rooster” Cogburn (Jeff Bridges in an Oscar-nominated and very worthy performance).  Unfortunately, Mattie’s choice in federal marshals is fraught with human frailties.  Cogburn is just as lawless, untrustworthy, and conniving as the men he pursues—a drunk and former bank robber who uses the powers of his office to get away with sometimes killing his quarry in cold blood.

Also pursuing Tom Chaney is Texas Ranger La Boeuf (Matt Damon, who far outshines his predecessor in the role, but still falls somewhat short).  With a manufactured charm and tough-but-nice-guy demeanor more befitting the original Steve McGarrett, La Beouf subverts the conditions of Mattie’s “contract” with Cogburn, enticing the federal marshal into joining forces for a far more lucrative reward for Chaney.

Eventually, and very reluctantly, the three team up to go after Chaney despite knowing that this pursuit will put them in a direct confrontation with the nefarious and deadly “Lucky” Ned Pepper (a very menacing and believable Barry Pepper) and his gang of cutthroats, with whom Chaney has now thrown in his lot.

Much of the two movies parallel each other through this point (as you can tell from the synopses), but there are divergences.  In the Coen Brothers’ version, La Beouf disappears for whole segments of the movie, only to reappear at seemingly random times when his character mysteriously becomes “important” once again to the movie.  Indeed, in one memorable scene in which a chimney is blocked to smoke out the men inside, the 1969 picture has Glen Campbell’s La Beouf up on the roof.  In the 2010 remake, La Beouf is off somewhere else entirely, and Mattie is left to do the chimney stuffing.  There is, therefore, a sense that story continuity is occasionally lost in the Coen Brothers’ version, even though it is purported to be closer to the Charles Portis novel on which both films are based.  Beyond that, however, the two films are indeed very close, clear down to a lot of the dialog and the formal, almost contraction-free speech patterns of the era.  Watching the original, this speech pattern comes off more as poor acting (especially when coming out of the mouths of Darby and Campbell), but it all somehow works better in the superior performances of the remake.

The more evident differences between the two films are in their overall style and feel.  The 1969 version contains much more humor.  The 2010 film is far darker and much more grim, from the scenery and the weather to the characterizations and the at times plodding action.  And this style and feel extends to the ending.  Whereas the original ends on a feel-good note, the remake’s ending almost leaves the viewer thinking, “What a downer.  Why did I even bother?”  But this is the ending Charles Portis wrote, and the Coen brothers should be commended in sticking with it.

Head-to-Head:  Wayne versus Bridges.  Now this one is sure to raise a few hackles, but here it goes.  Both performances are excellent, even though the characters are portrayed quite differently and very distinctly by the two actors.  And both performances were worthy of their Oscar nominations.  Where John Wayne’s portrayal comes off with humor and a vein of compassion that runs through the character almost from the start, Jeff Bridges’ Rooster Cogburn appears to have almost no redeeming qualities whatsoever.  With Bridges, a hint of humanity appears only near the end of the action, but the viewer’s sense of it is lost again in the final narration of the story as told by a much older Mattie years later.  At the end of the remake, I was left wondering if Mattie really did mean anything to Rooster, or if his struggle to save her had more to do with any potential monetary reward than any true sense of compassion or caring.  No such doubt exists at the end of Wayne’s performance.

At the end of it all, both movies are equally good.  The 1969version is superior in humor and produces a more satisfying ending, but there’s just something about the gritty realism of the 2010 version that places it on the same plane of quality as the original, only from an entirely different perspective and feel.  I would highly recommend seeing both versions within a short span of time to get the true sense for these two distinctly different takes on the same tale.