Rated R for some drug material, language and violent content
Cast: Jennifer Lawrence, John Hawkes, Kevin Breznahan, Dale Dickey, Garret Dillahunt, Sheryl Lee
Director: Debra Granik
The Ozark landscape is unforgiving. Cold. Stark. Relentless in its indifference. It offers no quarter. No respite. It seems to say, "if you want to build a life here, you do so under my rules... if you venture beyond the confines of those rules, you do so at your own peril."
The inhabitants of this small town view their lives through a similar prism. They help one another when they can, though they're careful not to interfere too deeply into another's life. No secret is brought to light unless it is willed to do so by the town itself. When virtually everyone embedded in this isolated area is a mere stone's throw from being unable to support themselves, rules like these are easy to enforce. Unfortunately for one of its inhabitants, she doesn't have much of a choice.
The girl is seventeen-year-old Ree Dolly (Jennifer Lawrence). She is the matriarch to her two younger siblings. Their mother lives with them, but recent events have made her catatonic, withdrawn, and unable to function normally. Ree has gripped the reins of the caretaker role with unparalleled ferocity. She's holding things together.
One morning, the local sheriff (Garrett Dillahunt) arrives at the family's doorstep with some unsettling news. Ree's father, an incarcerated crystal meth cook, had recently signed the deed to the house toward his bond, secured his release, and is now nowhere to be found. If he doesn't make a particular court date, their home will be taken away. Ree listens, her steady eyes careful not to reveal her fear for what might happen to her family. She nods. Determined. "I'll find him."
The most unsettling thing about this scene isn't the sheriff's arrival, his news, nor her reaction, but that various other inhabitants in the area have surreptitiously positioned themselves to better observe the conversation. Why? Do they know something about her father's whereabouts? What stake do they have in this particular bit of news? Something's going on here.
Ree sets out to discover what may have happened to her father, but is met with heavy resistance from all sides. "Stop poking around!" is repeatedly spewed in her direction. She finally receives a little assistance from the enigmatic Teardrop (John Hawkes), her father's brother who initially joins in the chorus of "butt out." He soon comes around, however, having resigned himself to being tossed onto the undying fire of his niece's stubbornness. In doing so, he has found his own degree of personal redemption.
"Winter's Bone" comes billed as a mystery/thriller, though it's a bit heavier on the "mystery" than on the "thriller." Over-the-top cinematic histrionics aren't on display here. The tension instead bubbles to the surface as Ree and Teardrop face obstacles from truly unexpected directions. Like Carl Franklin's "One False Move", this is a story where sins in the past have planted seeds from which sprout moral complexities in the present. The Ozark setting is crucial to the story in the same way that, say, the expanse of ocean was vital to "Dead Calm"... it imparts to us that help isn't coming from the "outside" world. The outcome, good or bad, will be determined by those occupying this singular field of gravity.
The story lives or dies on Jennifer Lawrence's central performance, and she is more than up to the task. Her role is challenging in two ways. First, she has to convey a lot while revealing little. Her character does not possess a demonstrative personality; her familial responsibilities are too great for such luxuries. Second, her character doesn't go through the standard arc of most movies leads. She must remain steadfast throughout, as her stubbornness is what carries the story to its powerful conclusion. A lesser actor would have tried to force some sort of character growth.
The character change actually comes from Teardrop. John Hawkes, a movie and tv veteran of ridiculously strong acting range (I first remembered him as wily fisherman Michael "Bugsy" Moran in "The Perfect Storm") is remarkably effective in slowly peeling away layers from Teardrop's personality. Early on in the story he seems to have an uncompromising predilection toward violence, but in later scenes he demonstrates a surprising capacity for verbal confrontation. (He manages to back off a law enforcement official in a scene I was convinced would end up mired in bloodshed.)
The screenplay by Debra Granik and Anne Rosselini (based upon the novel by Daniel Woodrell) is skilled in the way various elements are conveyed with as little as one or two lines of dialogue. Ree's personality is essentially summed up in a scene where her little brother observes a neighbor preparing a caught animal for their dinner. "That looks good," he says. "Plenty to spare. Maybe we should ask?" She turns to him, takes a gentle hold of his face and imparts the following advice... "Never ask for what should be offered." Another crucial moment in the story involves a meeting Ree has with an Army recruiter. She tells him the reason for her interest stems solely from her need for the money. Her age prevents her from joining. The recruiter knows this, but turns her away by telling her that "the greater challenge would be in staying at home, raising those two kids." He senses her pride and determination and makes a remarkably magnanimous decision in the way he phrases his response.
The story ends on a positive note, though painful truths were revealed in the process. But her family remains intact, and Ree has gained an ally in Teardrop. Late in the story while visiting the kids, Teardrop is shown a banjo Ree found that belonged to him and his father when they were younger. As he starts to leave, she extends the instrument in his direction. "Ain't you gonna take this?" He stops. Turns, faces her. The melancholy and bitterness that has blanketed his face for so many years dissipates from his eyes for the briefest of moments. "You keep it here for me, will ya?" Seldom does one line convey so much meaning. It may not seem like a transcending moment between family members, but it echoes here... throughout this land so unforgiving.
* * * 1/2 out of * * * * stars
