The Homesman

Technically his fourth film as a director, Tommy Lee Jones' "The Homesman," which is technically Tommy Lee Jones' fourth directorial effort, is an elegantly made and beautifully acted western that is more about the poetry of the West than the gun-slingin'. With a sharp-shooting Hilary Swank as his lead, Jones takes a simple and glacially paced road-movie and still makes it fascinating to watch.

Swank plays Mary Bee Cuddy, a plain woman (in both location and appearance) who has managed to be self-sufficient both in how to care for herself in the brutal West and financially by having saved up money and acquired land. The only thing she is missing is a husband. But Cuddy isn't looking for a romantic connection; she is trying to make a business deal. Try as she might, she can't seem to find anyone willing to take her as a wife.

With that underlying disappointment threading through her existence, she continues to remain strong and independent. When three mentally ill women in town are in need of transport to Iowa for medical help, Cuddy volunteers to be their caretaker and driver. But dealing with three unstable women riding in the back of a wagon isn't easy, and she soon finds she has taken on more than she can handle.

Along comes George Briggs (Jones), a claim jumper sentenced to death by locals who catch him setting up house in the home of a local who had temporarily traveled East. Placed on a horse with his hands tied and a noose around his neck, Briggs is just waiting for the horse to finally move, causing him to hang. Cuddy comes across Briggs and decides she can bargain with him; she'll cut him down if he assists her in bringing the women across the country. A rascal in temperament and humor, Briggs isn't too keen on caring for three crazy women, but without a choice he agrees to the deal.

The journey is long and hard, and the women prove to not be easy cargo. Gro (Sonja Richter) is an almost feral woman who has suffered years of mental and emotional abuse at the hands of her husband. Arabella (Grace Gummer) is a nineteen-year-old who has suffered the loss of three children, and Theoline (Miranda Otto) is practically catatonic. Cuddy handles them with grace, while Briggs really just wants to get to their destination, collect his money, and be a free man. Or course, in films like these, it's not about the destination, but rather the journey.

Hilary Swank proves once again what an exquisite actress she is. She can project exactly what Cuddy is feeling with just the tiniest of movements or a flick of her eyes. Her strength and vulnerability are both tangible, and it's fascinating to watch her inhabit the character.

Jones is excellent as always, sometimes playing his character a bit too nutty for the pastoral tone of the film, but somehow it works. And after a tragedy strikes, we see his character morph from a grumpy old goofball to a powerful protector.
But it is Jones as director that impresses here. While there will be many that think the film is overlong and dull (to be fair, it is a bit lengthy), there is too much here that impresses for it to be brushed aside. Jones doesn't heavy-hand the mentally unbalanced women, and his portrait of Cuddy is heartbreakingly lovely.
Using cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto ("Wolf of Wall Street" "Argo") every moment of the film is stunning to look at. Music by Marco Beltrami also adds to the quiet simplicity of the film, giving it the compassion the story deserves.

The supporting cast is a Who's Who of independent and mainstream cinema (James Spader, John Lithgow, William Fichtner, Hailee Steinfeld, Tim Blake Nelson), and even includes the legendary Meryl Streep in a small role where she gets to play in a scene with her real-life daughter (Gummer).

With beautiful set and costume design, Jones has assembled the best in the business to create a personal project that might not be perfect, but is clearly the film he set out to make. For the cinematography and performances alone, it's worth taking the ride.