True Grit ★★★★

This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.

This review may contain spoilers.

So there I was, facing a wall of options in my local public library's film section, when a voice came over the intercom to inform me that the establishment would be closing in mere moments. I became frantic, and knew I had to rush a decision on something with name recognition. Time was of the essence, and my heart threatened to pound through my chest cavity. Thankfully, this caught me out of the corner of my eye.

True Grit is filled to the brim with exactly what its title advertises. It's a rough western with great period-style dialogue folded over the Coen's quirky sensibilities.

All the performances hit perfectly, though I can't see why Josh Brolin's name would even be mentioned on the cover considering his mere 5 minutes of screen time. It probably has something to with No Country. Damon and Steinfeld are both as great as prescribed to be, Steinfeld in particular considering her youth. However, the show is stolen by Jeff Bridges, as per usual. He just has a way of embodying someone you feel like you already know.

I suppose I wasn't entirely moved on a metaphysical level or anything by the ending. Perhaps Mattie's amputated hand reflects on the cost of revenge, being that she shot her fathers killer with no trial. The opening monologue did foretell of nothing being free except "the good grace of God."

Still, the notes of Americana, the attention to period detail, the cold cinematography, and the phenomenal performances all add up to equal another gem in the Coen crown.