THE ASSASSINATION OF JESSE JAMES - Film Review
THE ASSASSINATION OF JESSE JAMES BY THE COWARD ROBERT FORD
(Known here as "Jesse James")
In this moody, somber, biographical indulgence of the life and decline of Jesse James it may be the narrator, Hugh Ross, who gets the Oscar nod.
This is old-time film making, and once I had adjusted the WayBack Machine, I hunkered down and fell in love with it. We grow so accustomed to a dozen images a minute, of seeing a single scene from five different angles, that when a director takes a deep breath and asks us to do so as well, it's mildly disturbing at first. In Jesse James, we get a long shot of a Missouri wheat field in snow, and we hold on that long shot for as long as it takes the rider—Brad Pitt—to arrive. And boy, does Brad Pitt arrive. This is the most mature and well developed performance of his career. The ladies won't swoon; the guys won't grip the arm rests white-knuckled. But he delivers. I predict an Oscar nomination, but that's going out on a limb because I'm not sure the Academy can bring itself to support such a quiet, understated acting job. Pitt is a bi-polar, menacing terror, whose internal machinery is grinding with such friction that we can hear it echo around the theater. He plays it with superb reserve, making the one or two scenes of forced laughter gut-wrenching and nerve-wracking.
But it is, surprisingly, Casey Affleck's film. Who would have thunk? The rich resonance he brings to the Judas character of Robert Ford has you holding your breath. You feel sorry for him. You are surprised by him. You fear him. He is the kid with the pack of matches at the gas pumps, the wild dog busted out of his cage, the simpering girl in pigtails sitting on a dagger. He is gorgeous and horrific all at once. His naive insecurity slowly devolves into an unearned confidence, and that's when you start to look away from the screen.
This is a two hour and forty minute film that gives you jet lag. It feels more like three or four. But that is its hallmark—the poetry of the landscape, the patience of a director and cinematographer who know how to put you into a time long forgotten. The audience experiences that era, we aren't just shown it. This is not a window into another time, this is one's transferal into that time, and its a quite the artistic accomplishment.
We know the end of the story going in—there are no tricks or slight of hand. The narrator jumps right in and tells us (as if we needed to hear it). So the more important element is the why, not the how. There's no math in the telling of the story. No complications to figure out. It's all character—rich, compelling characters—and landscape and texture and truth. Ten years ago it would have been heralded as a masterpiece. Now, sadly, impatient audiences may have no room for it in the Cineplex. And what a shame that is. It's about as boring as a John Singer Sargent. And if you have to Google that, then you won't love this film, as I did.
(Known here as "Jesse James")
In this moody, somber, biographical indulgence of the life and decline of Jesse James it may be the narrator, Hugh Ross, who gets the Oscar nod.
This is old-time film making, and once I had adjusted the WayBack Machine, I hunkered down and fell in love with it. We grow so accustomed to a dozen images a minute, of seeing a single scene from five different angles, that when a director takes a deep breath and asks us to do so as well, it's mildly disturbing at first. In Jesse James, we get a long shot of a Missouri wheat field in snow, and we hold on that long shot for as long as it takes the rider—Brad Pitt—to arrive. And boy, does Brad Pitt arrive. This is the most mature and well developed performance of his career. The ladies won't swoon; the guys won't grip the arm rests white-knuckled. But he delivers. I predict an Oscar nomination, but that's going out on a limb because I'm not sure the Academy can bring itself to support such a quiet, understated acting job. Pitt is a bi-polar, menacing terror, whose internal machinery is grinding with such friction that we can hear it echo around the theater. He plays it with superb reserve, making the one or two scenes of forced laughter gut-wrenching and nerve-wracking.
But it is, surprisingly, Casey Affleck's film. Who would have thunk? The rich resonance he brings to the Judas character of Robert Ford has you holding your breath. You feel sorry for him. You are surprised by him. You fear him. He is the kid with the pack of matches at the gas pumps, the wild dog busted out of his cage, the simpering girl in pigtails sitting on a dagger. He is gorgeous and horrific all at once. His naive insecurity slowly devolves into an unearned confidence, and that's when you start to look away from the screen.
This is a two hour and forty minute film that gives you jet lag. It feels more like three or four. But that is its hallmark—the poetry of the landscape, the patience of a director and cinematographer who know how to put you into a time long forgotten. The audience experiences that era, we aren't just shown it. This is not a window into another time, this is one's transferal into that time, and its a quite the artistic accomplishment.
We know the end of the story going in—there are no tricks or slight of hand. The narrator jumps right in and tells us (as if we needed to hear it). So the more important element is the why, not the how. There's no math in the telling of the story. No complications to figure out. It's all character—rich, compelling characters—and landscape and texture and truth. Ten years ago it would have been heralded as a masterpiece. Now, sadly, impatient audiences may have no room for it in the Cineplex. And what a shame that is. It's about as boring as a John Singer Sargent. And if you have to Google that, then you won't love this film, as I did.
posted by Ridley at 1:19 PM
11 Comments:
I have been waiting for this movie for what seems like years. I kept hearing different release dates and thought that meant the movie was flawed. I am glad to hear that it is not in the least bit flawed, and is, in fact, terrific (I trust you Ridley).
Now I have 2 great movies on my TBW (To Be Watched) list - The Brave One and The Assassination of Jesse James
Those are two of the most artistically written movie reviews I've ever read.
Thanks, Hope.
Hopefully they'll invite me to more screenings!
Ridley
Like Carol, I too have been waiting for this movie.
When I was 22, by a simple fluck of nature, it was my job to take about 500 ordered books to a Mister Leonard Broadfoot,(my parents were printers)an artist in the Ozarks who claimed, like many, that Jesse James was actually NOT killed as reported. This eigthy- year-old man sat down and explained to me his "reasons" for believing that JJ had lived beyond his reported death also..and the tale he told me that day was nothing I've EVER found in any book, and I've read them all...in fact the tale...believed by many in the local area...was quite a story.
There are many of the old timers in Missouri, with stories handed down from generation to generation of tales of the outlaw, and they are mostly folk tales of course, but some of them are...at least worthy of speculation.
After all, we all know that most historical accounts are not always what is reported. In fact, I would say it's more the rule than the exception. Many writers, as the man who made Jesse James famous, John Newman Edwards of the Post Dispatch, can make hero's or villians out of any historical figure, and the autobiographers are right at the front of the line. (well, some of them.)
For over eleven years...I researched this information, and came upon a little known fact that would actually, unlike Elvis and many other wild wishes of hero worshipers, make the tale true. Along with what was happening in Missouri at that time.
Anyway, if there was such a thing as FBI profiler back then, a Douglass let's say, he might have found out that Jesse actually had a "signature" that he left on most of his victims.
He shot the victim in the heart, and the head. I wonder if that's in the movie.
I'm so glad that Brad Pitt did this movie, because I always thought, even years ago, that only Brad Pitt had the look and the attitude, that could have pulled this off.
Ridley, thanks...it's good to hear that the state of Missouri, which actually is a beautiful state, is captured on film...
I'll probably be there the first night.
Give us more Ridley. And by the way....what's the name of that book again that you said "explained" a musician's experience and life as such?
I can't find the spot on your blog again that you recommned it.
I recommended the movie "Once" about a romance between a street musician in Ireland and young woman, piano player. Is that what you might be thinking of?
Ridley
No...it was a book, and it was one word. I think you said that if there was one book which had decribed what you had experienced as a musician, it was that one.
Okay, maybe I dreamt this.
By the way, your base-lines reminded me of the base player in the old "THE BAND"...you know, Bob Dylan's old band. And that's meant as a compliment, Ridley. Levon Helm and that guy were great. (I was watching THE LAST WALTZ when I thought of this.
Rick Danko? If I played like Rick Danko ... well, there would be a lot few books and a lot more notes....
I love his playing!
Ridley
This comment has been removed by the author.
I'm so excited to see this movie now, thanks Rid, i grew up on the chishom trail in NM near the McCrae ranch and love westerns.
Lonesome Dove was not long enough for my appetite of crime and the west - I've been to the jail of billy kid's breakout in ruidoso nm
Can i get this blockbuster? I let my netflix expire since moving here to St Louis!
Anybody watch two heart throb brunettes in BANIDITAS? Last sat night, my family did and it was a stitch woman's humor/western with Cruz and Hayek! (who by the way gave birth the same night in Europe i think to her first daughter)
it's worth a watch with young female actors or men who like women with pistols!
The movie of the Assassination of Jesse James was very well produced and executed but the overlaying narration by Hugh Ross of the masterfully written prose of Ron Hansen makes watching the movie a truly unique experience.
In today's big-business Hollywood, when all that can satisfy the appetite of the masses is 20 scenes per second special effect, you can't help but notice the eroding taste for culture. That is why it is so refreshing that a movie like this comes along every once in a while, through which we realize that all is not lost.
As of recently, I would point out three movies of this nature. Three glowing jewels in a sea of cinematic darkness: The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford; The Namesake; and Into the Wild.
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