A remake of a classic film is a double-edged sword to be sure. On one hand you have the purist mentality that sides in favor of the original, as if another version of the same material, especially one of an iconic nature is somehow sacrilegious and will tarnish its image if even attempted. History bears this out as many a remake, re-imagining, rehash, rerun has been handled without the necessary ingredients: script, direction, passion, point. Do these horrid attempts to cash in on the good names of the initial offerings besmirch their good names? Not necessarily. Many times, it makes them stand out so much more. However, clogging the system with crap of the same name can bury the original under a pile of trash and a movie-going public, without any sense of historical perspective, will never knows the pleasures of a great old film because, well, the new one sucks.
In the case of TRUE GRIT, you have a new version of Charles Portis' novel that follows the source material much closer than the Henry Hathaway version from 1969 which featured the Academy Award winning performance by John Wayne. This version is almost the swan song of a bygone era all of its own-the typical Hollywood western and few did it better in the 1960s better than Hathaway. With HOW THE WEST WAS WON (of which he shared duties with John Ford and George Marshall), NEVADA SMITH and THE SONS OF KATIE ELDER with The Duke, Hathaway was a real A-list studio talent with a style that was rapidly going out of fashion as he turned the last corner into the 1970s. Along with Wayne, GRIT starred a too-old Kim Darby as Mattie Ross, though she bring a lot of gumption to the role. Then there's Glen Campbell as Texas Ranger LaBoeuf who is green as a dollar bill in the acting department, though he isn't the embarrassment he could have been. For some reason, the studio-or Wayne himself-stuck the Duke with a lot of pop singers in his westerns to supposedly boost the box office draw, using with less than middling results-Ricky Nelson in RIO BRAVO, Frankie Avalon in THE ALAMO, Fabian in NORTH TO ALASKA, Bobby Vinton in BIG JAKE. The supporting players featured a fine cast of character actors including Robert Duvall as Lucky Ned Pepper, Jeff Corey and a just moments before EASY RIDER Dennis Hopper. Hathaway's take on Portis delivers the goods in a grand style that just screams Hollywood studio system, but still manages to remain true to the source in a roundabout way that doesn't insult the material, even if it does shine it to a high gloss. As for The Duke, he really does pull out the stops one last time, one of the few characters he allowed himself to play without being, well, The Duke. He really could be a damn good actor if he tried and his Rooster would a high benchmark to aim for any future interpretations. I really get a kick out of his exit line: "Well, come see a fat old man sometime!" before riding off into the sunset once more time.
As adapted and directed by Joel and Ethan Coen, the 21st century TRUE GRIT adheres to Portis' book and pays ever so slight homage to its first incarnation in very satisfying ways. In fact, when the final shootout occurs with the same dialogue, it is as rousing a film moment as any I've felt in the past five years, since it combines the best of all three worlds to make one for the ages. The tone of the film is somber, but playful, in keeping with the Coen Brothers style. The look of GRIT is splendidly bleak with cinematography by Roger Deakins, the best in the business. My only criticism lies with the editing, the Coens cutting way too sharply occasionally from scene to scene, upsetting the flow in places. This weight of the story falls on the strength of the Mattie Ross character, played this time by the believably feisty Hailee Steinfeld, who rises to the challenge like an old pro. She is one of the best young acting discoveries in ages. Matt Damon elevates the LaBoeuf role into something to be cherished, a fine supporting turn that reminds us again of what fine work he is capable of doing, even if he doesn't sing the title song. (Advantage: Campbell!) And Barry Pepper as Lucky Ned Pepper (a descendant perhaps?) is much like the movie itself, a mash-up of both Robert Duvall from the first and Henry Dean Stanton. And of course Jeff Bridges plays Rooster Cogburn with such an infectiously ornery spirit that makes one forget that he's really something to be feared-a raging alcoholic with a badge and a gun. In the end, Bridges finds the heart and soul of Rooster and the real hero within. I see Bridges' Rooster as an elder version of his character in Robert Benton's BAD COMPANY, a sensational and underrated western from the early seventies that has much in common with this TRUE GRIT. Bridges' long career culminates in the last couple of years, but I think if he hadn't won an Oscar last year, he would have for this performance, much like The Duke himself.
If I had a preference-the Coke vs Pepsi Challenge where I would have to choose one over the other, I'd have to give to the Coens. They've made the best oater (as Variety used to call westerns) certainly of this new decade, a dubious honor to be sure since there have been, what, this one, JONAH HEX and a couple on the Hallmark Channel? But this TRUE GRIT proves that westerns are still a viable cinematic genre, especially where it counts for Hollywood-at the box office. Maybe remakes are the only way new westerns can get the green light in this day and age, other than something like COWBOYS VS ALIENS. If so, they might at well continue panning for gold in the John Wayne catalog.
RIO BRAVO, anybody?
Showing posts with label John Wayne. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Wayne. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 01, 2011
True to the Grit
A remake of a classic film is a double-edged sword to be sure. On one hand you have the purist mentality that sides in favor of the original, as if another version of the same material, especially one of an iconic nature is somehow sacrilegious and will tarnish its image if even attempted. History bears this out as many a remake, re-imagining, rehash, rerun has been handled without the necessary ingredients: script, direction, passion, point. Do these horrid attempts to cash in on the good names of the initial offerings besmirch their good names? Not necessarily. Many times, it makes them stand out so much more. However, clogging the system with crap of the same name can bury the original under a pile of trash and a movie-going public, without any sense of historical perspective, will never knows the pleasures of a great old film because, well, the new one sucks.
In the case of TRUE GRIT, you have a new version of Charles Portis' novel that follows the source material much closer than the Henry Hathaway version from 1969 which featured the Academy Award winning performance by John Wayne. This version is almost the swan song of a bygone era all of its own-the typical Hollywood western and few did it better in the 1960s better than Hathaway. With HOW THE WEST WAS WON (of which he shared duties with John Ford and George Marshall), NEVADA SMITH and THE SONS OF KATIE ELDER with The Duke, Hathaway was a real A-list studio talent with a style that was rapidly going out of fashion as he turned the last corner into the 1970s. Along with Wayne, GRIT starred a too-old Kim Darby as Mattie Ross, though she bring a lot of gumption to the role. Then there's Glen Campbell as Texas Ranger LaBoeuf who is green as a dollar bill in the acting department, though he isn't the embarrassment he could have been. For some reason, the studio-or Wayne himself-stuck the Duke with a lot of pop singers in his westerns to supposedly boost the box office draw, using with less than middling results-Ricky Nelson in RIO BRAVO, Frankie Avalon in THE ALAMO, Fabian in NORTH TO ALASKA, Bobby Vinton in BIG JAKE. The supporting players featured a fine cast of character actors including Robert Duvall as Lucky Ned Pepper, Jeff Corey and a just moments before EASY RIDER Dennis Hopper. Hathaway's take on Portis delivers the goods in a grand style that just screams Hollywood studio system, but still manages to remain true to the source in a roundabout way that doesn't insult the material, even if it does shine it to a high gloss. As for The Duke, he really does pull out the stops one last time, one of the few characters he allowed himself to play without being, well, The Duke. He really could be a damn good actor if he tried and his Rooster would a high benchmark to aim for any future interpretations. I really get a kick out of his exit line: "Well, come see a fat old man sometime!" before riding off into the sunset once more time.
As adapted and directed by Joel and Ethan Coen, the 21st century TRUE GRIT adheres to Portis' book and pays ever so slight homage to its first incarnation in very satisfying ways. In fact, when the final shootout occurs with the same dialogue, it is as rousing a film moment as any I've felt in the past five years, since it combines the best of all three worlds to make one for the ages. The tone of the film is somber, but playful, in keeping with the Coen Brothers style. The look of GRIT is splendidly bleak with cinematography by Roger Deakins, the best in the business. My only criticism lies with the editing, the Coens cutting way too sharply occasionally from scene to scene, upsetting the flow in places. This weight of the story falls on the strength of the Mattie Ross character, played this time by the believably feisty Hailee Steinfeld, who rises to the challenge like an old pro. She is one of the best young acting discoveries in ages. Matt Damon elevates the LaBoeuf role into something to be cherished, a fine supporting turn that reminds us again of what fine work he is capable of doing, even if he doesn't sing the title song. (Advantage: Campbell!) And Barry Pepper as Lucky Ned Pepper (a descendant perhaps?) is much like the movie itself, a mash-up of both Robert Duvall from the first and Henry Dean Stanton. And of course Jeff Bridges plays Rooster Cogburn with such an infectiously ornery spirit that makes one forget that he's really something to be feared-a raging alcoholic with a badge and a gun. In the end, Bridges finds the heart and soul of Rooster and the real hero within. I see Bridges' Rooster as an elder version of his character in Robert Benton's BAD COMPANY, a sensational and underrated western from the early seventies that has much in common with this TRUE GRIT. Bridges' long career culminates in the last couple of years, but I think if he hadn't won an Oscar last year, he would have for this performance, much like The Duke himself.
If I had a preference-the Coke vs Pepsi Challenge where I would have to choose one over the other, I'd have to give to the Coens. They've made the best oater (as Variety used to call westerns) certainly of this new decade, a dubious honor to be sure since there have been, what, this one, JONAH HEX and a couple on the Hallmark Channel? But this TRUE GRIT proves that westerns are still a viable cinematic genre, especially where it counts for Hollywood-at the box office. Maybe remakes are the only way new westerns can get the green light in this day and age, other than something like COWBOYS VS ALIENS. If so, they might at well continue panning for gold in the John Wayne catalog.
RIO BRAVO, anybody?
Saturday, May 26, 2007
So Long,Springtime
As springtime rolls to a close on this Memorial Day weekend, here are some thoughts that are random.
Conspiracy Theory of the Week
Rosie O’Donnell is being paid by the far right to discredit the left. Honestly, is someone this wretchedly obnoxious on purpose? Now that she’s no longer on The View, maybe if Michael Moore shaved and wore a wig, nobody would notice the difference. But then again, there's that voice... If he can imitate the sound of a flamingo being tossed into a wood chipper, he'll have it made.
Paris Hilton is going to jail for approximately three weeks at last count. Maybe her fellow inmates will stage a break and insist she play along. Then when they’re eventually caught down the line, Paris will be forced to do hard time. It’s fun to dream, isn’t it?
At what point did “No problem” replace “You’re welcome” in our vernacular? I’ve found this occur particularly in the service industry. Let’s say I ask a wait person for a glass of water and when they do, I thank that person. How is it proper for the response to be “No problem”? This implies there somehow might have been a problem to begin with. It’s your job, mallethead. Does this bother anyone else but me? It does? You’re welcome.
Grindhouse turned out to be as big of a blast as I expected. I had the best time watching this ode to my drive-in theater days. Though the box-office was mediocre, it has the potential to live a second life as a party DVD. The full impact of the experience is of course in the cinema since some of the intentional gags such as the “missing” reels and the “scratches” on the prints are alien to home viewers. Quentin Tarantino has added additional footage to his segment Death Proof for the Cannes Film Festival and a possible second try solo run in theaters. Hopefully, he’s improved his film since his work was the weakest of the double bill with Rober Rodriguez’s Planet Terror. Quentin actually strayed from the original concept and wrote a vapid, empty and ultimately boring set-up to a grand finale which, fortunately, kicked royal ass. Kurt Russell deserved better, giving his best performance in years and obviously having the time of his life. And the new love of my life is stunt actress Zoe Bell. Try to catch Grindhouse in its original condition. if oyu’re as bent as I am, a better time in the movie theater you will not have. If you’re really lucky, one the few drive-ins left in the country will pick it up. Fill up the ice cooler with some tasty beverages and enjoy the ride.
In honor of his 100th birthday, I offer my favorite John Wayne moment:
In The Sons of Katie Elder, bad guy George Kennedy is sadistically dunking blacksmith John Doucette’s head in the water trough. The Duke sneaks up behind him and yells, “Hey!” Kennedy turns as the Duke backswings an axehandle right across the puss, dropping George like a bag of dirt.
Ten seconds of film that will live forever in the cinema of my mind’s eye.
Happy Birthday, Marion!
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