An Ozark town full of bad teeth and worse attitudes creates a menacing framework in Debra Granik’s Winter’s Bone. The film that won Sundance’s Grand Jury Prize blurs the lines of trust and devotion; every could-be-kind mountain town neighbor is a threat, every family member might deliver a punch before an embrace.Granik’s gritty, piercing drama places her in the über-talented, female director category with Kathryn Bigelow (last year’s Oscar winner for The Hurt Locker). With Bone she delivers a simple, seek-and-find scavenger hunt.
It’s a one week quest for seventeen year-old Ree (Jennifer Lawrence) to find her crack-dealing father, who is out of jail and has lovingly put up the family home (with the family in it) as bond. She sets out to accomplish what the police cannot, or her “nut-job” mother and two younger siblings-turned-kids-of-her-own are homeless.
Young Lawrence embodies Ree with the acumen of a woman twice her age. Her performance does for Bone what (Timothy) Hutton’s did for Ordinary People – except Lawrence carries this film through every scene. The twenty year-old actress lends Ree an unwavering determination and ballsy everything-to-lose attitude that opens some of the most closely guarded and dangerous neighborhood doors.
But the road to discovery is fraught with friction at every turn. Drug dealing uncle “Teardrop” nearly strangles her for asking about his brothers’ whereabouts. A family down the road (with all the charm of the deranged leatherface hoarders from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre) nearly kills Ree before she stops asking about dad.
In a hillbilly town where women are forced to do dirty work way beyond hanging clothes on the line outside to dry, it seems there are few left on the side of the “good girl” spectrum. Dale Dickey is sensational as the female head of the Texas Chainsaw-like tribe. Her most loving gesture towards Ree involves a secluded lake and a power tool.
Bone’s cast is so hostile, parts of the movie straddle the horror genre. Creepy girls with pot-marked faces lead Ree through desolate fields to ominous destinations. An intimidating redneck violently herds her into his truck to take her somewhere “down the road,” with no further explanation. By the time Ree receives any gestures of kindness from her family, one wonders when the hand that helps her will come back to shoot her in the foot.
The axiom here could be plainly “when there’s no one you can trust, learn to trust one’s own courage.” And that is paramount. But the ultimate grandeur of Granik’s movie lies in the beauty of human fallibility. There’s tenderness to be appreciated in the backhanded assistance of monsters. When help arrives in the guise of the feared, there’s merit learned in letting go of one’s instincts.
Unsettling and poignant, Bone takes the audience somewhere unfathomable and brings them back safely. And they’ll root for Ree to come back too.
- Hillary Smotherman
