The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford: Like a dream of redemption that never happened

I’ve watched this movie at least 10 times, and each time, I see something slightly different. The first time, I saw Robert Ford, a mixed-up young man trying to mistakenly follow in his idol’s footsteps. The next few times, things started to meld together in ways that few movies ever allow. It’s an ambiguous film but direct, with a narrator that sees things as it was, without much to say but what had apparently happened back when Jesse James was still alive. I’ll be forthright and say that I don’t know much about the history of Jesse James or the period. It’s something that, as a Canadian, you’re never really exposed to. But I wanted to learn more after watching this movie.

The story centers around the last few weeks of Jesse James’ life, as he rounds up members of his gang to pull off one last heist. That description isn’t really accurate though, because he spends most of his time interacting with Robert Ford and his brother, Charley, as Robert tries to curry Jesse’s favor and creepily act as if he were Jesse James in misplaced bouts of wish fulfillment. Jesse never really takes Robert seriously, so he vows revenge and gets hired by the American government to kill Jesse, in the hopes that he would become famous as THE man to kill him. That he kills him is in the title, and it’s the lead up to it—the why—that really stands out. It’s a parable about American fame and how you’ve got to earn it the right way if you want to truly be liked by the people.

That still doesn’t really sum up what the movie’s really about either. The score of the movie and the little scenes in between, where the narrator quietly describes how Jesse and his family had to keep moving from city to city in the middle of the night or how secretive he had to be to keep his identity unknown, really make this story about Jesse, his way of life, and how he tried to redeem himself by keeping Ford’s company. A man who no one could sneak up on suddenly killed in his home by a boy who he could size up and understand so well was like a parting gift to that generation. The music gives a gloomy air to what everyone knows will happen, but it’s also pensive, as if signifying that the previous generation is passing on and wondering if he did the best he could for the future—if his actions, robbing banks and fighting against the government, mean anything at all—as society moves on without him. He lets Ford kill him, not even knowing if it’s the right thing to do, but letting Ford try to fill his shoes anyway, hoping that everything he taught him will make him a better man in the end.

The saddest moment of the film, the one that leads to Jesse’s redemption (if you can call it that), is not at the end of the movie, but at the beginning, when he turns to his brother after his final train robbery. Not a word is said, and his brother shoots him a tired, defeated glance, as if there was never any real point to what they were doing. Life had moved on, and it was time to find another purpose. It just took Jesse a while to find it.