
Ree Dolly (Jennifer Lawrence) is a young woman living in rural Missouri. Her mother suffers from chronic illness, and her father has seemingly abandoned his family, with the suspicion being that he has returned to his life of crime. However, this turns out to be more than a problem when the family is visited by the local authorities, who inform them that due to their patriarch having used their property for his bail bond, if he doesn’t attend his court hearing in a few weeks, they will have no choice but to take the land and remove the family, leaving them destitute and without any place to go. Desperate to retain the little she and her family have, Ree sets off to try and find her father. The rumours that he left to carry on working in the illegal meth trade are deafening, and Ree tries her best to silence them. However, when the alternative option is that he isn’t manufacturing substances somewhere, but rather laying dead as a result of finding himself on the wrong side of the law once again, Ree is hoping that he is at least alive. It becomes increasingly unlikely, and no one seems to be of much assistance to her. Her uncle, Teardrop (John Hawkes) does his best to dissuade her from continuing her quest, as does the wife of the local crime lord (Dale Dickey), who informs the young girl that she should avoid getting involved in the business dealings of people she has no reason to bother. Yet, Ree’s tenacity overpowers these demands, and she continues her search – but she soon realizes what a mistake this was, since she finds information that she eventually wishes she didn’t know, especially regarding the ultimate fate of her father, which is far worse than she ever imagined.
When it comes to cutting to the bone of the trials and tribulations of ordinary Americans, very few directors have done it better than Debra Granik. Inarguably a filmmaker with a small but substantial set of films under her belt, Granik has made a name for herself as someone who can compose poetic odes to the human condition, filtered through the dark and harrowing realities faced in the most rural locales across the country. Perhaps the pinnacle of her work comes in the form of Winter’s Bone, the film may consider to be her towering masterpiece, and one that essentially established her as an authorial voice that we need to watch. The second of her three films, this is a beautifully haunting glimpse into the lives of a group of people in working-class Missouri, who find themselves on the wrong side of the law due to their involvement, whether directly or by proxy, with another group of individuals that have been conducting highly illegal business. Showing these events through the eyes of an impressionable young woman who is only now starting her own future allows Granik to comment on both the harrowing realities of what she saw as a social epidemic, as well as providing clear insights into the experiences of younger people who witness the shocking behaviour of those who will do anything to get ahead in life. Winter’s Bone is a deeply unconventional film that centres on one common theme – survival, in all its various forms, and through her conviction as a filmmaker, and a genuinely powerful manner of executing this story, Granik makes a modern realist masterpiece that keeps us both engaged and terrified throughout, which is certainly not an easy feat considering the simplicity of both the subject matter and her bare-boned style of putting it together
There is an extraordinarily fine line between something being dreadfully bleak or a socially charged realist masterwork, and we’ve seen some of the most impressive artists of their generation fail when trying to reflect reality, with allegations of attempting to exploit the working-class through miserable, heartwrenching stories being very common. Granik is a very careful filmmaker – having only made three films, she is clearly someone who takes a great deal of caution, not only in putting together stories that feel authentic, but immersing herself in the worlds she is putting together, creating vivid tapestries of life that are incredibly genuine, and come across as intimate stories composed of meaningful characters that actually represent people rather than concepts. Granik doesn’t receive the praise she deserves as a revolutionary filmmaker (perhaps a result of her decision to be very selective with the projects she takes on), but as both a storyteller and visual stylist, she makes some incredibly bold choices, with Winter’s Bone being the best combination of both sides of her talents. Beautifully-made, and told with sincerity and an earnest understanding of issues that are clearly close to the director, the film is an exquisite exploration of life in the Ozarks, told with a poeticism that we’d not expect from something that appears as bare and unfurnished as this. Her ability to extract so much emotion from such a simple premise, and a style that reflects very straightforward realist ideals, will always be one of the aspects that sets Granik apart from all of her contemporaries, who have often attempted to reach this level of pastoral realism, but struggle exactly where Granik seems to be most at ease.
While it is a marvellous film on its own terms, one aspect of Winter’s Bone that is probably the element that gives it the most cultural cache is the fact that this was the breakthrough performance for Jennifer Lawrence. By now, we’ve all become accustomed to the reality that Lawrence is one of the finest young actresses working today, amassing an impressive array of performances that speak to her endless gifts. However, just over a decade ago, she was relatively obscure, known for supporting roles in an array of small independent films and hackneyed television shows. By all accounts, Winter’s Bone seemed to be just another tremendous but underseen independent drama that wouldn’t make much of an impression, since this isn’t the kind of film that achieves widespread acclaim. However, it became something of a minor sensation, and Lawrence was a major part of why it succeeded – her performance is the beating heart of the film, her ability to portray the gritty nuances of a complex character are astonishing, and made for truly captivating viewing. This is a true revelation of a performance, and she fits so well into the world Granik created, it’s surprising that she managed to avoid typecasting and would go on to do some amazing work in the future, wildly different from this star-making performance. John Hawkes also benefitted massively from his unforgettable supporting role, kickstarting a career re-evaluation that saw the actor become one of the prime character actors of his generation, and which he is still earning work from, all because Granik saw something special in this stringy, gangling actor who could play both warm and sinister with equal aplomb. The cast of Winter’s Bone is exceptional, whether it be in one of the major roles, or simply a minor character that exists for a scene or two, but still leaves a profound impression in the process.
Winter’s Bone is a major work concealed as a small, intimate drama – and considering we exist in an artistic landscape where the converse is often prevalent, it’s an understandably refreshing change of pace. Seeing this film again for the first time since its release is a fascinating experience – time has allowed it to age beautifully, with Lawrence’s flourishing career showing what an incredible breakthrough this film was (and many of the finest qualities she possessed later on can be found here), and Granik’s work setting a standard for very simple, unfurnished dramas to come about without the risk of them fading into obscurity. It’s a striking, poignant rural drama that incites some powerful conversations about everyday life, giving us glimpses into the experiences of those living on the margins of society. Insightful and honest without becoming exploitative, Granik’s approach is beyond admirable. Rough around the edge, undeniably difficult to watch, but beautifully poetic and brimming with a striking simplicity, Winter’s Bone is a triumph for independent filmmaking, and a watershed moment for an entire movement that was massively assisted by this project, which is the embodiment of the little film that could surmount the highest peaks and overcome all the challenges that stood in its way through nothing but outright authenticity and a willingness to have difficult conversations.
