2010’s Winter’s Bone,
directed by Debra Granik.
Starring Jennifer Lawrence, John Hawkes, Isaiah Stone, Ashlee
Thompson, Shelley Waggener, Garret Dillahunt, Dale Dickey, and Lauren Sweetser.
Nominated for an Academy Award for Best Picture, Best
Adapted Screenplay (Debra Granik and Anne Rosellini), Best Actress (Jennifer
Lawrence), and Best Supporting Actor (John Hawkes).
What is it about?
17 year old Rees (Jennifer Lawrence), her 12 year old
brother, Sonny (Isaiah Stone), and 6 year old sister, Ashlee (Ashlee Thompson),
live in poverty in the Ozarks of Missouri. Their mother is catatonic, and criminal
father, Jessup, is missing, leaving Rees to look after the family. They’re
informed by Sheriff Baskin (Garret Dillahunt) that their father put their house
up for his bond, forcing Rees to try to locate Jessup. Reaching out into the
community, she discovers few answers but plenty of people happy to let the meth
ravaged and poverty stricken community remain in silence. With her Uncle
Teardrop (John Hawkes) alternating between terrifying and helpful, will Rees be
able to keep her homestead intact?
Why is it worth seeing?
In terms of her career output, director/co-writer Debra
Granik can hardly be accused of being prolific- but when she punches it lands
squarely in the jaw. Adapted from Daniel Woodrell’s 2006 novel of the same
name, Granik takes us square into the heart of the dirt poor Ozarks in rural Missouri.
Discovering a land of burned out meth lab shacks and well, just shacks, there lie
generations of people enmeshed in inter generational poverty who feel pretty
comfortable with their way of life, and to whom silence towards institutions
such as the law are a matter of pride. To accompany Rees on her hostile
odyssey, Granik fills the frame with non professional actors and local artists,
giving the air a kind of agoraphobic authenticity to us as outsiders, but also
showing people living somewhere they would never leave if they could. In a land
of domestic violence and criminal activity, even a pat on the head can feel powerfully
comforting in dem’ hills.
Solidly anchoring the film, is the actor coming
out party for Jennifer Lawrence. As the 17 year old teen desperately looking
after her entire family, she gives a performance here that takes your breath
away. Devoid of sentimentality but certainly not immune to the acetic journey
into a landscape resembling something from Macbeth,
the actress’ resulting stardom feels as inevitable as the thick web of silence
from the film’s various victims of violence. There’s no one whom you would
rather journey into blackness with. Not far behind, is John Hawke’s searing performance
as Rees’ Uncle Teardrop. Quiet, unpredictable, menacing, and unclear as to
whether he is a helpful family member or antagonistic agent of chaos, it’s a
stunner. The two of them deserved their Oscar nominations, if not more.
Besides casting and authenticity, another of Granik’s strengths lies in her unsentimental intimacy, which stands out all the more in such a brutal setting. In one scene, a person ruthlessly harms another person, both as a lesson to the victim, and as a warning to a witness. It’s ugly stuff- but Granik manages to make it feel intimate (possessing none of Scorcese’s explosive kinetics for example), almost in denial of the awfulness of hurting other people as a method of control. It’s not the first time she’s made less positive emotions as a barely noted upon elegiac note. It’s the touch of a great director (who happens to be female), and as Rees continues through her twisted journey to its conclusion, both resolution and the seeds of further fate are planted in the film’s closing scenes. You start off the film not knowing why people choose to live where they do. You finish understanding why they would never leave.
Besides casting and authenticity, another of Granik’s strengths lies in her unsentimental intimacy, which stands out all the more in such a brutal setting. In one scene, a person ruthlessly harms another person, both as a lesson to the victim, and as a warning to a witness. It’s ugly stuff- but Granik manages to make it feel intimate (possessing none of Scorcese’s explosive kinetics for example), almost in denial of the awfulness of hurting other people as a method of control. It’s not the first time she’s made less positive emotions as a barely noted upon elegiac note. It’s the touch of a great director (who happens to be female), and as Rees continues through her twisted journey to its conclusion, both resolution and the seeds of further fate are planted in the film’s closing scenes. You start off the film not knowing why people choose to live where they do. You finish understanding why they would never leave.