Winter's Bone

It's difficult not to compare Debra Granik's film, Winter's Bone, to The Coen Brothers', True Grit. The two films share so many similarities with each other and so few with any other recent films. Both are set in the foreboding environs of winter in the Ozark Mountains of Arkansas, and both feature a teenage girl on a determined hunt for a very bad man. True Grit was a great movie by one of today's best directing teams, but if you're looking for the best story of a teenage girl exhibiting determination and grit in the face of hardships presented by America's frontier look no further than Winter's Bone. Jennifer Lawrence's portrayal of Ree Dolly (damn, what a great name!) marks the emergence of a true talent.

Don't get me wrong, I love the Coen Brother's and I loved True Grit, but Winter's Bone is THAT good. And, don't be misled by me, Winter's Bone is NOT a western in the typical sense of the word. Dolly's frontier is not one of a 19th century, lawless, Indian Territory. Her's is one of meth houses, backwoods cops, and a lack of opportunity. Not that these themes are inherently superior, or even necessarily good. As with anything, it's the execution that sets Winter's Bone apart from other films of 2010. Another director could've easily made this story feel like any other overly-stylized, sensational investigation of modern drug culture. Ms. Granik's excellent choice of casting, music, pacing, and shot locations make the film something bigger than that, a true Southern Gothic. Just as important as the drug-world to the film's suspense and underlying tension are the culture-specific music, the surrounding environment and community. And to be clear, that suspense and tension is pervasive and palpable in this relatively quiet film.

What struck me as so remarkable about this film was how rare a thing it is. Western's have made quite a resurgence recently, but on average they bore me, mostly because of their inability to get at the essence of living in a time and place on the fringes of the 'known'. Directors have turned the western into a period piece, where the costuming is more important than the substance. Winter's Bone does more to articulate the hardships of living in an American frontier (on the fringe) than just about any recent Western i can think of (apologies to Dead Man, The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada, and The Proposition), and all within the context of a rural American community. I've written substantially here of musicians exploring America's remaining frontiers and redefining what Americana means. Winter's Bone does the same for film, in particularly the Western.