GRADE: A
Tommy Lee Jones, Hillary Swank, John Lithgow, Miranda Otto, Grace Gummer, Sonja Richter, James Spader, Tim Blake Nelson, Hailee Stienfeld and Meryl Streep
Screenplay by Tommy Lee Jones and
Kieran Fitzgerald and Wesley Oliver
Based on the novel by Glendon Swarthout
Directed by Tommy Lee Jones
Rated R (violence, sex, rape, profanity, disturbing behavior and brief nudity)
Tommy Lee Jones has been behind the camera before,
with two made for television films and the theatrical feature The Three Burials of Melqeades Estrada to his credit. Jones the director is much like Jones the actor, and Jones the man: surly, boisterous, warm, charismatic and completely infuriating all at the same time.
The story, set in the 1850's, follows Mary Bee Cuddy (Swank), a middle-aged spinster from New York, a former teacher who journeyed to the Midwest for better opportunities. She is an active member of the small farming community she now calls home in Loup City, Nebraska, and has significant financial prospects and sizable land ownership.
After a harsh winter, three young women—Arabella Sours, Theoline Belknapp, and Gro Svendsen—begin to show signs of insanity due to the hardships they have faced. When someone must be chosen for the task of taking these women to a church in Iowa that cares for the mentally ill, Mary Bee volunteers for the task alone because she is unhappy with her life and wants an adventure.
After loading the women into a wagon, Cuddy sets out for Iowa, and before she leaves she encounters George Briggs (Jones), a claim jumper, who has been lynched for using another man's land as his own. Sniveling and begging to be saved, Briggs appeals to Cuddy for help. She frees him in return for his help escorting the women, though he only sticks with it because he is getting paid $300.
The Homesman is a riveting film, unflinching in its portrayal of mental illness and the harshness of life in the period. Some are labeling it a feminist western, and it certainly takes a sympathetic, even loving view of the silent heroines of the times who faced much more dangerous foes than outlaws or Indians, and the fact that they are also prone to the weakness and frailty that comes with being human should not be mistaken for a negative statement: the men in this film are no stronger, and in many cases quite a bit weaker. It's also very likely the only western to ever deal with the subject of clinical depression (though the illness is never named directly) and ultimately the three women are hardly the only mentally unstable characters. In fact, the point of the film, if there is one (and it is surprisingly difficult to tell at times), is that we are all dealing with our own demons, no one is exactly who they seem, and that the best of us (Cuddy) have darkness inside us and the worst (Briggs) are capable of rising to the light if they really want to do so, but we all need help in some form, whether we are quietly pleading for it from whoever there is or are fighting it from those who see something more in us than we do in ourselves. In the end, without someone who cares, all have have is whatever defenses we have built for ourselves.
It is a film that takes quite a bit of of time and thought to digest, and it is so relentlessly bleak and so short on hope that audiences can't really be blamed if they can't get through it.
The performances are excellent all around, and Swank proves once again that she is one of the most daring leading women in film history. Jones can command the screen with the flimsiest of material, and manages to take a character with few if any admirable qualities and pull us toward him, maiking us care far more about him than makes any sense. Otto, Gummer and Richter are mesmerizing as the three women (each is genuinely heartbreaking in their own way), and the rest of the cast is filled with capable actors, including John Lithgow in his second major performance this month (the last being Instersellar.). Between Cliffhanger and 3rd Rock From The Sun, I had grown to think of Lithgow as such an over the top ham that I always get entranced by watching him play a real person. There are also several extended cameo appearances, which include Jones' fellow Lincoln alumn James Spader and Tim Blake Nelson, Hailee Stienfeld and Meryl Streep (who shares the screen with her real life daughter, Grace Gummer.). Cameos, especially in a serious film, can be a tricky prospect, and can be distracting and irritating (The Thin Red Line) or subtely effective in creating a feeling that these small characters are real people with their own stories (Saving Private Ryan, Twelve Years A Slave), and thankfully Jones uses these actors very well, giving us the latter. Streep in particular gives a beautifully nuanced performance, providing the film with it's most subtly haunting moment (and I am decidedly not part of the crowd that swoons over every single thing Streep does and thinks she has no peers.).
The cinematography, musical score and editing are expertly done. Jones the director has many admirable qualities, not the least of which is knowing that the camera does not always have to be moving to create a money shot. Jones wears his respect for the directors that influenced him on his sleeve, whether it is using True Grit's Steinfeld in a cameo or putting a prominent thank you to Steven Spielberg at the end, but if there is one director that Jones channels most, it has to be Clint Eastwood, particularly Unforgiven.
The film does have a slight unfortunate tendency to wander at times, but it generally finds its way back. Also, like so many other "unflinching" directors, Jones doesn't have the strongest sense of when it's okay to flinch: three scenes in one movie that compete for most graphically unpleasant sex scene of the year is a bit too much for me to be convinced to was essential to the story.
Sill, as a treatise on mental and emotional illness, The Homesman is genuinely brilliant and worthy of recognition. But if you are going to give this movie a try, be prepared for some very disturbing imagery, including a baby being killed. Don't even try to watch this movie if you are not used to R rated dramas.
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