The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford

 

An exceptional film by newcomer Andrew Dominick that brillaintly depicts midwestern culture in the late 19th century. The artful work of Dominick captures the movement of light and shadow with particular mastery in skyscapes and other natural shots. The camera illuminates the haunting echoes and half light particular to turn of the century housing. The open pasture scenes do the original Artist justice as a careful character study unfolds to the back drop of an equally mastered soundtrack composed by Nick Cave & Warren Ellis. It’s careful development and movements fill out the narrative which accompanies the story line.

The narrative which for the most part works well is derived straight from the novel of the same name by Rob Hansen. The dialogue and subsequent scenes follow Jesse James and Robert Ford and ultimately the fatal interesection of the two. Ford, much younger than James joins the gang longing for fame only to learn the ugly reality of the storied outlaw and is soon drawn into a dillema of loyalties. There are no giveaways here as the film’s title implies- Ford ends up killing James only to find his act of heroism is not received as such in a society consumed with the worship of the anti-hero and awash in its own naive perceptions of the fabled murderer-James that is.

This movie joins the rank of classic western cinema with a brillaint performance by Casey Afleck as Robert Ford and a strong showing by Brad Pitt who has lost the purity of his portrayals since the days of Legends of The Fall or A River Runs Through It, though nonetheless captures James very well.

The film is poorly served by the thesis of the Hansen novel which seeks to portray Ford as a type of coward for assassinating a man who would be akin to a serial killer in modern times. Hansen insists this is the case because Ford felt threatened by him and acted only out of fear, but how that is not portrayed as a simple matter of survival is beyond comprehension and a stretch by any measure. The film follows the vain and sad days of Ford’s life as he is thrust into the limelight only to find what so many fame chasers have found also- that the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow is laced with poison. The commentary on the vanity of fame is welcome and always a timely moral tale. But the insistence on the cowardice of Ford and the comparison of the two’s fame leaves the film with more of a sizzle effect than a bang. The end that Hansen and in turn Dominick are aiming at is that James was a true American folk hero while Ford was just a poser. Thus, the film falls prey to the very sublime idiocy it depicts- the love of the anti-hero, a distasteful American icon and that to its shame. The one who adores this iconoclast suspects themselves clever for observing redeeming qualities in sociopaths or lesser villains. This stigma, this blight on American folk character falls back on itself and its bland attempt to capture the complexity distilled into humanity.

That flaw aside, that inordinate anti-hero affection syndrome, which to give Dominick credit, a healthy chunk of Americans suffer from, the film stands out as an excellent piece of cinema worthy of any collection.

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