The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford
July 23rd 2008 01:45
I’m stepping a little outside the square for this one, but I’m still compelled to review it for my blog; The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (2007) written for the screen and directed by Andrew Dominik, who last made one of the best Australian features of the past twenty years, Chopper (2000), is a magnificently mounted and deeply moody portrait of two dark figures of American wild west history.
The movie is a narrative of the twilight years of the infamous The James Gang, notorious criminals led by Jesse James (Brad Pitt). When the film opens in 1881 the relationships between the gang members are deteriorating. The stark winter Missouri landscape reflects the turmoil of these hardened men struggling to maintain a semblance of normal life, yet the years of violence and seclusion have taken their toll on their physical and mental health.
Jesse exhibits the worst of these ailments and afflictions, his character exhibiting increasing paranoia and distrust. At the same time young Bob Ford (Casey Affleck), a 19-year-old, whose older brother Charley (Sam Rothwell) rides with the James Gang, has idolised Jesse and his criminal career, having followed it in the popular, yet sensationalised, comic books of the time. Bob is brought into the fold, and aims to prove his mettle to his idol, one way or another. But time and talk breeds disillusionment, which in turn sparks deeper and darker shades of anxiety and suspicion between the kid and the man, leading to the inevitable act of cowardice against the malevolent legend.
Based on a novel by Ron Hansen, which follows the real life events surrounding the lead-up to the murder of Jesse James, the movie is a sprawling and majestic tale of loyalty and betrayal. The long title, in keeping with the prose style of the times, is fitting as the movie itself is a long ‘un (original running time at Venice Film Festival was close to four hours, but the studio had it cut down to two-and-a-half). Despite much criticism by ADD Gen-Y audiences, the movie moves at an appropriately languid pace. This is a character study, and a superbly realised revisionist Western, a tenebrous account of implicitly sustained violence.
Featuring some of the most breathtaking cinematography of the American west I’ve ever seen by a modern magician of light Roger Deakins, which utilises deliberate soft focusing as a poetic tool and a spare colour palette (the movie, although technically in colour, appears to be mostly in either sepia tone or a bluey-black and white). It’s a lushness infused with a profound chill. The art direction and costuming are also very convincing.
The score by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis fits like weathered hand in leather glove. But also of note is the sound design, the heavy use of the sounds of nature; the wind in the trees, the breeze through the tall grass, and the crickets. And then there’s the sound of the guns, which are curiously un-dramatic; more metallic pops than loud bangs, but then the pistols and rifles of that period weren’t the incredibly explosive punctuation devices they have been championed as by decades of Hollywood Westerns.
Which brings me to the performances, and it has to be said Brad Pitt, distracting as his uber-superstar status is, delivers probably the finest of his career; a complex and unpredictable portrait of a tortured man at the end of his tether, yet desperate to hold on to his sceptre of infamy. Jesse James was a robber and a killer, a sociopath plagued by his own demons, brought to the surface of his crumbling psyche by the sly, but crooked machinations of a young man who worshipped him.
Casey Affleck matches Pitt with his own equally mesmerizing, equally disquieting portrayal of the young man, and another sociopath, who toppled one legend for another, but was never “canonized”, nor written about with such reverent notoriety. There is a tragedy buried beneath the legends of these two murderous misfits. There is a fractured nobility and a resignation too, as one man realises where his fate is descending too, whilst another mistakes his rise to fame as destined majesty, when it will only lead to ruin. A small gripe though that Affleck’s teeth were too damn perfect for the period.
Fantastic support from Sam Rockwell, also Garret Dillahunt as Ed Miller (whom fits snugly into the Western as he etched his name deeply in Deadwood), Paul Schneider as Dick Liddil and Jeremy Renner as Wood Hite, three other members of the James Gang. Sam Shepard plays Jesse’s older brother Frank with conviction, but he has little screen time. A shame too though that Mary-Louise Parker as Jesse’s wife Zee, was under-developed (perhaps she had more material in the original cut of the film). Curiously there are very few major roles for women in the movie. This is a movie oiled in the bravura and angst of testosterone.
I had a problem with the narration voiced by the annoyingly nasal Hugh Ross; it balances precariously between farce and profundity. The last twenty or so minutes of the movie, after the assassination, seem to drag and meander, as if screenwriter/director Andrew Domink was struggling to find a fitting end, even though his central characters have seemingly reached the end of the story’s arc. Again, this may have something to do with the movie having had an hour-and-a-half cut from it.
Despite these flaws, The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (I love rolling that title off my tongue) will age well, like a big oaky full-strength bourbon, to be savoured alongside other great brooding and uncompromising modern Westerns such as Unforgiven and The Proposition ... yet this movie captures an even deeper sense of wounded melancholy.
Here's a curious trailer that uses a different voice-over, appears to have shots not in the theatrical release, and uses different music:
Here is an alternate trailer which does use music from the movie, yet still uses the same narrator's voice not used in the movie:
The movie is a narrative of the twilight years of the infamous The James Gang, notorious criminals led by Jesse James (Brad Pitt). When the film opens in 1881 the relationships between the gang members are deteriorating. The stark winter Missouri landscape reflects the turmoil of these hardened men struggling to maintain a semblance of normal life, yet the years of violence and seclusion have taken their toll on their physical and mental health.
Jesse exhibits the worst of these ailments and afflictions, his character exhibiting increasing paranoia and distrust. At the same time young Bob Ford (Casey Affleck), a 19-year-old, whose older brother Charley (Sam Rothwell) rides with the James Gang, has idolised Jesse and his criminal career, having followed it in the popular, yet sensationalised, comic books of the time. Bob is brought into the fold, and aims to prove his mettle to his idol, one way or another. But time and talk breeds disillusionment, which in turn sparks deeper and darker shades of anxiety and suspicion between the kid and the man, leading to the inevitable act of cowardice against the malevolent legend.
Based on a novel by Ron Hansen, which follows the real life events surrounding the lead-up to the murder of Jesse James, the movie is a sprawling and majestic tale of loyalty and betrayal. The long title, in keeping with the prose style of the times, is fitting as the movie itself is a long ‘un (original running time at Venice Film Festival was close to four hours, but the studio had it cut down to two-and-a-half). Despite much criticism by ADD Gen-Y audiences, the movie moves at an appropriately languid pace. This is a character study, and a superbly realised revisionist Western, a tenebrous account of implicitly sustained violence.
Featuring some of the most breathtaking cinematography of the American west I’ve ever seen by a modern magician of light Roger Deakins, which utilises deliberate soft focusing as a poetic tool and a spare colour palette (the movie, although technically in colour, appears to be mostly in either sepia tone or a bluey-black and white). It’s a lushness infused with a profound chill. The art direction and costuming are also very convincing.
The score by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis fits like weathered hand in leather glove. But also of note is the sound design, the heavy use of the sounds of nature; the wind in the trees, the breeze through the tall grass, and the crickets. And then there’s the sound of the guns, which are curiously un-dramatic; more metallic pops than loud bangs, but then the pistols and rifles of that period weren’t the incredibly explosive punctuation devices they have been championed as by decades of Hollywood Westerns.
Which brings me to the performances, and it has to be said Brad Pitt, distracting as his uber-superstar status is, delivers probably the finest of his career; a complex and unpredictable portrait of a tortured man at the end of his tether, yet desperate to hold on to his sceptre of infamy. Jesse James was a robber and a killer, a sociopath plagued by his own demons, brought to the surface of his crumbling psyche by the sly, but crooked machinations of a young man who worshipped him.
Casey Affleck matches Pitt with his own equally mesmerizing, equally disquieting portrayal of the young man, and another sociopath, who toppled one legend for another, but was never “canonized”, nor written about with such reverent notoriety. There is a tragedy buried beneath the legends of these two murderous misfits. There is a fractured nobility and a resignation too, as one man realises where his fate is descending too, whilst another mistakes his rise to fame as destined majesty, when it will only lead to ruin. A small gripe though that Affleck’s teeth were too damn perfect for the period.
Fantastic support from Sam Rockwell, also Garret Dillahunt as Ed Miller (whom fits snugly into the Western as he etched his name deeply in Deadwood), Paul Schneider as Dick Liddil and Jeremy Renner as Wood Hite, three other members of the James Gang. Sam Shepard plays Jesse’s older brother Frank with conviction, but he has little screen time. A shame too though that Mary-Louise Parker as Jesse’s wife Zee, was under-developed (perhaps she had more material in the original cut of the film). Curiously there are very few major roles for women in the movie. This is a movie oiled in the bravura and angst of testosterone.
I had a problem with the narration voiced by the annoyingly nasal Hugh Ross; it balances precariously between farce and profundity. The last twenty or so minutes of the movie, after the assassination, seem to drag and meander, as if screenwriter/director Andrew Domink was struggling to find a fitting end, even though his central characters have seemingly reached the end of the story’s arc. Again, this may have something to do with the movie having had an hour-and-a-half cut from it.
Despite these flaws, The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (I love rolling that title off my tongue) will age well, like a big oaky full-strength bourbon, to be savoured alongside other great brooding and uncompromising modern Westerns such as Unforgiven and The Proposition ... yet this movie captures an even deeper sense of wounded melancholy.
Here's a curious trailer that uses a different voice-over, appears to have shots not in the theatrical release, and uses different music:
Here is an alternate trailer which does use music from the movie, yet still uses the same narrator's voice not used in the movie:
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