The Movie:

Most of us should know by now that the Western genre is inspired more from cowboys and Indians fantasies than any realistic depiction of 19^th century life in the actual west. Life in the harsh, unforgiving and isolated parts of the country during that time was more about survival, of the body and of the mind, than anything else. Tommy Lee Jones' grim, drab, yet sublime and refreshingly honest anti-Western explores the psychological toll such a bitter world would take from even the most strong-willed and determined person.

Women are usually underrepresented in Westerns, which is not surprising since it's a genre that draws its inspiration from male fantasies of heroism, an offshoot of the medieval knight archetype. Jones manages to subvert the confines of the genre by picking a headstrong female protagonist who's braver and smarter than the men around her, which is of course frowned upon in the male-dominated rural mid-19^th century Nebraska town she lives in. Her strong dedication to her character and morals forces her into a lonely and isolated existence.

When we first meet Mary Bee Cuddy (Hilary Swank), she is in full control of her own affairs, taking care of her home and farm with great care. Yet her loneliness compels her to propose marriage to a man he offers food and shelter to, who refuses her offer by calling her "Plain and bossy." From her tired expression, we get the feeling that she's had those adjectives hurled at her by many men in the past.

The more traditional and therefore more subservient women around her aren't faring well either. In fact, three of them (Grace Gummer, Miranda Otto and Sonja Richter) lose their minds due to the harshness of frontier life and have to be transported back east. The men of the town refuse to go on the dangerous journey, giving any supposedly practical reason to cover up for their crippling fear, leaving Mary, the only person who cares enough about these deeply troubled women, to volunteer for the trip. The rest of the townspeople think she's mad for taking on the mission. In a deeply touching scene, the town's preacher (John Lithgow) becomes the only person who admits her bravery.

During the journey, she comes upon George Briggs (Tommy Lee Jones), a narcissistic drunk scoundrel seconds away from dying thanks to the noose around his neck. Mary saves George's life on the condition that he accompanies her on the trip while helping with chores and security until they reach their destination. The two eventually also settle on a price for George's services. At first, all George cares about is the money that was promised him, but along the way he begins to sympathize with the women's plight.

A shocking decision made by one of the characters after an equally tender and painful scene created some amount of controversy, although not as much as I predicted since it's also a very unorthodox narrative choice. This surprising yet not necessarily sudden choice was what drove some of the film's dissenters to propose that all of the feminist touches Jones brings to the genre were demolished when he supposedly showed that women indeed have weaker skin than men.

I don't think Jones' case is that men can handle a hard life better than women, but that they deal with it different, sometimes in equally self-destructive ways. I believe that's why Jones sticks with one of the protagonists after the natural climax of the film for another ten minutes of screen time in order to make the point that no one survives this world unscathed. With the final close-up shot before the credits roll, Jones once again shows how little women mattered back then.

Just like his previous anti-Western The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada, Jones once again shows how much compassion and empathy he has for characters who are trying to make their way through an unfair and unbalanced world while strictly holding onto some form of morality in order to retain their humanity. On the acting front, his boisterous character is far from the stoic persona he usually showcases on and off screen. Hilary Swank, on the other hand, would have easily bagged another Oscar nomination with her powerhouse performance if The Homesman was a drama that had any aspirations to artificially please its audience with a softened blow.

The Blu-ray:

Video:

The Homesman comes to Blu-ray with an astounding and pretty much perfect 1080p presentation that captures Jones' and DP Rodrigo Prieto's minimalist approach to the material. In order to visually emphasize the isolation of the characters, Prieto takes advantage of empty spaces that contrasts the blue skies and the grey soil. The Homesman is an almost hauntingly beautiful film and should be experienced on this HD transfer.

Audio:

The Homesman is a relatively slow-paced experience than relies heavily on ambiance to bring the audience into its quiet yet threatening world. The DTS-HD 5.1 surround transfer excellently encapsulates the film's subtle sound design while enveloping the audience with Marco Beltrami's moving score.

Extras:

Origins: A 20-minute featurette on Jones and his co-screenwriters Kieran Fitzgerald and Wesley A. Oliver adapting Glendon Swarthout's novel.

Shooting the Film: A 30-minute mini-documentary about the shooting process. It gives the audience a close-up view of Jones' directorial approach.

Beyond the Western: This 10-minute featurette might be the most interesting extra, as the cast and crew discuss in detail whether or not The Homesman is a Western.

Final Thoughts:

The Homesman tells a grimy yet realistic story via a profoundly compassionate and even-handed approach. It's a hard sell, especially for audiences who are looking for feel-good fare. It might not necessarily be a fun watch, but it's nevertheless a fulfilling and engrossing experience.

Oktay Ege Kozak is a film critic and screenwriter based in Portland, Oregon. He also writes for The Playlist, The Oregon Herald, and Beyazperde.com