When a work of literature has already received a film adaptation that is as close to perfect as one can get (or at least cherished as such), it can be difficult for future filmmakers to work with the same material. True Grit, the novel by Charles Portis, was previously turned into a starring vehicle for John Wayne, who played slightly against-type as the conflicted and grouchy Rooster Cogburn, resulting in one of his most celebrated performances in the Henry Hathaway-directed film that has been enjoyed by audiences since its release over a decade ago. When it was announced over a decade ago that Joel and Ethan Coen would be taking the novel and adapting it, the expectations were high, not only due to the standard set by the original film (which the directors assured was not an inspiration for this film, with this version being guided solely by the novel, rather than making the populist changes made in the earlier film), but also due to the fact that it would be the esteemed duo’s first foray into the western genre. Their version of True Grit is astonishing – a beautiful, heartwrenching drama that collides with a darkly acidic comedy, all done through the lens of a revisionist western, its difficult to imagine that this could’ve been anything less than an absolute triumph. In short, this film is beyond magnificent, easily trotting its way to the upper-echelons of the greatest films made in the previous decade, and one that I never hesitate to revisit, whether it be to see how the Coen Brothers managed to take this material, which was by all means very little more than a pulpy action novel, and turned it into one of the defining works of the recent wave of revisionist westerns, setting the standard for nearly every filmmaker over the past decade that has attempted to venture into the heartland of the American frontier, portraying the trials and tribulations of the souls that populated it.

Joel and Ethan Coen have remained some of the most interesting directors of their generation for a number of reasons, one of them being their chameleon-like ability to adapt to any material, regardless of genre or convention. True Grit is their first official western – some may argue that previous films could be considered along the same lines (Fargo, Blood Simple and Raising Arizona are all structured like contemporary westerns), while No Country for Old Men is technically a film that takes place in much of the same territory and follows a similar pattern. However, this was their attempt to make their own claim to become a part of the recent rise of revisionist westerns, where the collision of modern mentalities in genre films, and a renewed interest in the genre from a more artistically-resonant point of view, resulted in a revival of a genre that many have considered dormant for decades. If anything, True Grit doesn’t only add to this rekindling of the genre, but helps define it – the directors are masterful craftsmen, and are able to take Portis’ novel and turn it into an absolutely spellbinding piece of filmmaking, ignoring the original film (while still showing reverence to it by never actively going against the principles of what Hathaway did – his version of True Grit was dated but a product of its time, and should be treated as such rather than being unfavourably compared to this adaptation) and allowing us to luxuriate in the worlds created by the author, as filtered through the always discerning lens of two profoundly gifted directors who rarely, if ever, did anything that could be considered uninteresting, which is often reflected in the fabric of this film.

The Coen Brothers, like many prolific directors, are often the subject of debate surrounding what their best work could be – and while everyone has differing opinions, True Grit stands as one of their finest achievements, a viewpoint that is rarely actively negated, but still feels quite deviant from the status quo. There are a number of reasons this film is such a success – we can just look to the performances, where the directors casually extract some of the best work out of Jeff Bridges, inarguably one of the finest actors of his or any generation, without even the slightest hint of laborious effort. He turns in a powerful and unforgettable performance as Cogburn, stepping into the weathered boots of arguably the greatest western star to ever work in the medium (yet, it’s unwise to compare what Bridges did here to Wayne in the original – they’re both such magnificent, layered performances that couldn’t be more different), and armed with a trusted pistol and the distinctive grizzled sense of humour we’ve grown to not only expect, but actively embrace, Bridges is just fantastic, commanding the screen in a way very few other actors can. He’s joined by Hailee Steinfeld in her debut performance, where she plays the resilient and feisty Mattie, a young girl who will stop at nothing to get retribution, her small frame and youthful, girlish persona concealing a bloodthirsty, vengeful spirit that matches the dedication of the marshal who accompanies her on this journey. Without the spirited performances from Bridges and Steinfeld, both of whom are undeniably the heart of the film, it’s doubtful True Grit would’ve been able to work as well as it did – this is not a film about the spectacle (even if it is gorgeously-made), but rather the characters and their motivations, and the two leads are able to balance the numerous layers of these individuals, who are ultimately some of the most authentic to ever emerge out of a genre that isn’t often known to facilitate such wonderful performances.

True Grit proves the magical touch the Coen Brothers have consistently shown throughout their career, since it is far more than just a traditional revenge western, but rather an actively engaging work of art. They once again work with two of their most frequent collaborators, Sir Roger Deakins and Carter Burwell, who are put in charge of the visual and aural landscape of the film respectively (and continue to prove how they are undeniably masters of their craft), and together they adapt the source material to a spectacular series of unforgettable moments that feel as authentic in their origins as they do genuinely exciting. Despite the revisionist nature of the story (which places emphasis on the role of women in the age of the Wild West, as well as some deeper socio-cultural commentary that was always conveniently avoided in more conventional westerns in previous decades), True Grit is traditional, old-fashioned entertainment, the kind of rousing western that reminds us of why this genre reigned supreme for so long – and as much as they are implying that something more profound lurks beneath the surface of the film, the directors aren’t interested in layering it only with heavy-handed meaning. It allows the film to have several deep conversations on the nature of identity and existentialism that touch on the viewer’s most intimate sensations, while being followed up by a breathtaking action sequence that leaves us entirely speechless. The final act of True Grit is amongst the best-directed in the Coen Brothers’ entire oeuvre, with the perfect calibration of narrative and visual spectacle keeping us entirely engaged and enthralled, managing to have both a happy ending, and a bittersweet conclusion, the rare contradiction that seems par-for-the-course when it comes to considering the iconoclastic careers of the directors.

There’s a charm to True Grit that can’t be undersold. Something about this film just hits all the right notes, and even when it is at its most conventional, there is something so special about how Joel and Ethan Coen take this material and transform it into this magnificent film. It feels simultaneously epic and intimate, hilarious yet bleak, traditional yet provocative – and who else could so confidently form a film around such intense contradictions than a pair of directors who have proven their stylistic and narrative brilliance for decades now? We’ve seen many terrific revisionist westerns over the past few years, and True Grit fits perfectly amongst them, being the gold standard for this kind of daring restructuring of the genre and establishing a kind of tonal approach that many filmmakers have liberally sampled in their own endeavours. It only makes this film more rich and evocative, especially when we break it apart and look at it from beyond the confines of the genre that it is actively pushing against, while still somehow celebrating at its core. There are many ways to deconstruct True Grit, whether it be the spirited performances from the two leads, the gorgeous filmmaking or the unforgettable story – but whatever way we look at it, there are very few chances to deny its brilliance, especially when the film proves its mettle and absolute grit through being a sturdy, reliable western drama with the distinctive subversive touch of the directors, who were never aiming to make something conventional, nor were they going to follow any known rules, so they didn’t even try to convince us otherwise, leading to an absolutely spectacular film that continues to inspire, over a decade later.