True Grit (1969) is a classic, but not a timeless one. It is a time capsule that illustrates the transition between old school Hollywood as personified by John Wayne, banking on the innate affable feeling that audience feels when seeing a particular star and that star’s ability to do more with their silent reactions and dependable delivery style, and the style of acting that we’re used to now as embodied by Robert Duvall and Dennis Hopper, feeling that the acting is based in reality and is less stylized when the man behind the character disappears. This film spells out everything before it happens, as it happens and after it happens in contrast to the Coen Brothers who depended more on showing over telling. Even though the plot calls for a harsh reality and at least a few nighttime scenes, every scene is brightly lit, and the landscape is quite cheerful. The solemnity of the story is contrasted by the childlike, irrepressible joy exhibited by the three central characters even as they are snapping at each other. They are a joyous unit, and only one death makes a lasting impression on the audience. The story is at odds with the visual as opposed to the Coen Brothers’ adaption, which makes it a weaker film. When I first saw this version, I was amazed at how they let a young female character take the reins and hold her own against her strong costar, John Wayne. Now that I’m rewatching it, the dynamic between the two is the strongest element in comparison to the Coen brothers’ adaptation, especially John Wayne’s ability to stick his hand in the fire and fearlessly remark (possibly as an ad-lib, but I haven’t read the book so I’m not certain) the sexual nature of LeBoeuf’s need to discipline Mattie, which is explicitly alluded to in one scene during the remake, but is rapidly dropped and the absence of addressing Mattie’s gender and emerging sexuality is largely unaddressed or dropped. The overall cast is not stronger, but the central relationship carries the film. [This film also has a cat.]