The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford
There is probably no film genre that has been deconstructed, revised and revisited more often in American history than that of the Western. The way it has always straddled that central American paradox of mythologizing bandits and outlaws while reaffirming law and order makes it especially potent in times of national identity crisis: the recent high-profile appearances of the genre (There Will Be Blood, No Country for Old Men, 3:10 to Yuma) are similar in more ways than one to the revisionist Westerns that emerged post-Vietnam in the 1970s, such as Little Big Man and Buffalo Bill and the Indians, or Sitting Bull's History Lesson). Fitting in seamlessly with the aforementioned recent Westerns, The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford functions as a fractured mirror that reflects our contemporary concerns, ranging from the ways in which the popular media frame and distort both contemporary and historical events to the eerie feeling that our heroes are little more than psychopaths glorified by those who seek to emulate their image more than their actions.
Australian director Andrew Dominik brings a leisurely, lyrical sense to his adaptation of Ron Hansen's novel, stunningly visualizing the past in long widescreen takes of desolate landscapes and broken-down homes, but never surrendering to the temptation of again glorifying that which the film seeks to criticize. Brad Pitt is exceptioinally good here as the edgy, morose Jesse James, but among the astonishing cast, Casey Affleck is the true stand-out, delivering a performance that is truly uncanny in its nervous fawning and rudderless yearning for recognition.
The DVD, packaged in a handsomely designed but easily damaged faux-wood container, features a strikingly flawless transfer and terrifically immersive 5.1 audio, but no extras of any kind.