Category Archives: Historical

I’ve always enjoyed westerns. There’s a lot to be said for a straightforward action story that celebrates classic virtues – honor, courage, justice, and self-sacrifice. And Joel and Ethan Coen’s critically and commercially acclaimed remake of the classic “True Grit” fits the bill nicely. It’s a well-paced, flawlessly acted drama that, refreshingly, retreats from the sordidness of modern cinema. By embracing a more traditional aesthetic, the Coen brothers succeed in creating a dark, engaging masterpiece.

(Since this film has been out for awhile, the following sections contain spoilers.)

The heart of “True Grit” is Mattie Ross (Hailey Steinfeld), a plucky fourteen-year-old with plenty of nerve. After the senseless killing of her father by villainous Tom Chaney, she vows not to let his murderer escape unpunished. She promptly hires a fierce, trigger-happy U.S. marshal – “Rooster” Cogburn (Jeff Bridges) – to track down her quarry. But Cogburn’s not the only one searching for Chaney – cocky Texas Ranger LaBoeuf (Matt Damon) is also hot on the killer’s trail. At first, the two strong-willed men refuse to work together – and refuse to allow Mattie to accompany them. But, as one might expect, Mattie isn’t dissuaded. The three form an uneasy alliance that takes them deep into the heart of Indian country, where they must ultimately confront Chaney and his outlaw companions.

It sounds like a simple plot – and in many ways, it is. But where so many other movies would have fallen short, “True Grit” shines. This is accomplished in large part by excellent pacing. Big-budget action scenes always take a backseat to character development, which gives the movie a memorable resonance. Early on in the film, Cogburn is called as a witness at a murder trial. The ten-minute scene that follows gives viewers a uniquely comprehensive look at the marshal’s character. In an era of effect-centric moviemaking, such deviations from the norm are immensely refreshing.

The film also contains a somewhat complex exploration of revenge themes. Viewers are left with the question of whether or not Mattie’s odyssey is a search for retribution or a righteous crusade. On one hand, she fully intends to kill Tom Chaney herself (and eventually does so). She refuses to entertain the possibility of trying him for other charges – LaBoeuf is after Chaney for crimes committed in Texas – and never loses sight of her pitiless goal. Cogburn and LaBoeuf, despite participating in her quest, don’t share the same motive. However, it could also be argued that her pursuit is morally justified, considering that local lawmen have abandoned all hope of apprehending Chaney. By operating alongside a U.S. marshal, she is theoretically under the auspices of his authority. This thesis, however, is also flawed – by paying Cogburn to assist her, Mattie employs him in a bounty-hunter capacity…which sets a dangerous precedent for vigilantism.

Ultimately, however, the movie rejects a revenge-centric mindset. In the climactic scene, Mattie shoots Chaney with a shotgun, killing him. The recoil, however, sends her flying backward into an abandoned mine shaft, where she is bitten by a rattlesnake. To save her life, Cogburn rushes her to the nearest doctor – carrying her in his arms when their horse dies of exhaustion. The final moments of the film reveal the outcome of her snakebite: the loss of her left arm. The symbolism is clear: revenge is a poisonous, destructive force that leads to unintended consequences. She has avenged her father, but quite literally lost a part of herself in the process.

From a worldview standpoint, “True Grit” has a vaguely existential tone. A much older Mattie returns to the West in an attempt to find Cogburn, but learns that he has already died. The final shot of the film is of Mattie, dressed in black and standing beside Cogburn’s grave, silhouetted against the sky. She reminisces that Cogburn and LaBoeuf both had “true grit” albeit in their own ways – implying that meaning and purpose are found in individual strength of character, rather than in external morality. Conversely, Chaney is portrayed as cowardly, hinting that his greatest flaw is his lack of personal “grit” (rather than his contempt for the law). These themes, however, are not blatant enough to seriously weaken the film.

Technically, “True Grit” is stellar. The acting is top-notch, especially by newcomer Hailey Steinfeld. Characters come across as fully believable – as humans with both good and bad tendencies. The movie doesn’t idealize its heroes, but neither does it drag them through the mud of depravity. Wisely, the Coen brothers reject the popular “handheld camera” style of cinematography (i.e. what you might find in the Bourne trilogy) in favor of a more classic approach.

Objectionable content is mostly found in the form of infrequent western-style violence. Shootouts occasionally have bloody consequences, but there’s nothing extended or severe. As expected in a movie like this, there’s some language (including what I think was a garbled f-word) but it’s not pervasive.

Should you watch it?

“True Grit” is a must-see for western fans. It’s both an excellent western and a strong movie in its own right, with rich character development and complex themes. It’s mostly devoid of seriously questionable material, and offers plenty of food for thought. Viewers who don’t like westerns won’t have their minds changed by “True Grit,” but most moviegoers will enjoy it. There’s a reason why stories like this are enduringly popular – and “True Grit” is a perfect example.

VERDICT: 8/10
An outstanding modern western. Definitely recommended.

Normalized Score: 5.8

If you’re like me, when you think of “China,” one of two images pops into your mind: Marco Polo’s cities of gold and the Great Wall of China; or an authoritarian Communist economic powerhouse. Often overlooked is the culture of the pre-Revolutionary Chinese peasantry…the backbone of a world power, and the society from which the seeds of revolt sprang.

Pearl S. Buck’s classic novel, “The Good Earth” explores the life of one Chinese villager, Wang Lung, at the beginning of the 20th century. Born into an exclusively agrarian community, his highest ambition is to become a successful, independent farmer and have many sons to succeed him. The book proceeds to chronicle Wang Lung’s life from his youthful marriage to his old age, in the process achieving a spellbinding blend of simplicity and depth.

As the novel opens, Wang Lung marries O-lan, the kitchen slave of a wealthy and powerful lord in the area. Several children soon follow, and Wang Lung’s prosperity begins to increase. He begins to acquire additional farmland from the aging, indebted aristocrats, and elaborate schemes for future development take root in his mind. However, all his ambitions must be placed on hold when a devastating famine strikes the region. Refusing to watch his family die (or practice cannibalism to survive!), Wang Lung leads his wife and children to a southern city, where he engages in backbreaking labor to feed his family.

It is in this city that Wang Lung first senses discontent among the underclass. The great men of the city live in luxury, heedless of the suffering outside their doors. Finally, tensions reach the boiling point, and a mob of rioters storms the palace of the wealthiest lord. During the uprising, Wang Lung comes into possession of a large amount of gold – enough to return his family to the northern farm country and become a wealthy landowner.

The rest of the novel chronicles Wang Lung’s increasingly decadent – yet still pragmatic – lifestyle. Instead of a story of survival, it becomes a tale of Wang Lung’s slow metamorphosis into that which he once abhorred. As he prospers more and more, he begins to lose touch with the people that have meant the most to him – his wife, his sons, his former friends… I won’t spoil the ending, but it demonstrates rather starkly the transience of material goods.

This book is a must-read for any individuals interested in Chinese history and culture. It dramatically depicts the attitudes and lifestyles of the commoners who would later instigate the Chinese Revolution, and demonstrates the grotesque opulence of the nobility against which they rebelled. As an analysis of the roots of modern China, “The Good Earth” succeeds brilliantly. From a literary standpoint, the novel is exquisite in its simple style. It uses plain language and a narrative-based story structure to communicate enduring truths, without ever compromising its mature tone. This elevates it far above other historical fiction in the same vein.

The worldview of the story is implicit in the plot itself: material goods are temporary, but relationships are of lasting value. Traditional aspects of Chinese culture, such as the worship of ancestors or Buddhist deities, are for the most part absent. (I would have been personally interested to see how these external standards of morality – albeit, flawed standards – would have affected the decisions of the main characters.) From a content standpoint, “The Good Earth” does delve into some pretty mature issues. As previously discussed, there is a discussion of cannibalism early on in the novel. Later on, Wang Lung takes a second wife (a former courtesan), leading to tension and discord in his household. (This unwise decision is never condoned, and leads to a toxic outcome.) This isn’t the sort of historical fiction book to give to a fourth-grader.

However, older teens and adults will likely find “The Good Earth” a compelling story of perseverance, sacrifice, and human weakness. Highly recommended.

VERDICT 9/10
A dramatic tale of life in early China. Well worth reading.

Author’s note: This will likely be my last literature commentary for some time. Further commentaries and movie reviews will be posted as my college schedule permits.