On the American frontier in the years before the Civil War, a trio of women have gone insane. One (Miranda Otto), her mind fractured by the daily agricultural grind and economic failure, drowned her infant in the latrine. One, a Norwegian transplant (Sonja Richter), cannot cope with the abrupt death of her beloved mother and is now left alone with her brute of a husband. And another (Grace Gummer) lost her children to diphtheria; she has become a mute and fixates on caring for a weathered doll. Their insanity has rendered them a burden, and their husbands are eager to discharge them from their lives. Mary Bee (Hilary Swank), a righteous, stoic, and solitary local woman, agrees to transport them via wagon to the care of a minister's wife in Iowa. The journey is a treacherous one, and she expects to contend with Native Americans, outlaws, and brutal weather. Fearful, but determined, she recruits George (Tommy Lee Jones), a competent and shrewd former soldier, to help her. Having previously saved him from hanging, she believes he is honor-bound to lend her a hand, though he is reluctant.

Not only does he play a lead role, but Jones also directs and co-writes The Homesman, and he has fashioned a despairing, perplexing, riveting, and arguably feminist variation on the Western. He has zero interest in comforting the audience nor conforming to our expectations of the genre. With its out-of-left-field eruptions of violence, macabre sense of humor, beautiful-but-desolate landscape photography, and rare focus on the torment experienced by female pioneers (rather than a romantic ode to masculine courage and capability), Jones' film plays as hard-edged, subversive, and untamed. This includes a type of plot twist signaling the transition from the second act to the third; though neither overplayed nor indulged in, it is one of the most dour and unexpected turns in a film this year, forcing us to sadly consider anew much of what came before.

The performances are of a high quality, from the well-matched stars (his wily irascibility as contrasted with her rigid morality and sense of purpose is the most accessible element in the film) to a wealth of very small, but colorful performances by such titans as James Spader as an toothily unctuous hotel proprietor and Meryl Streep as the aforementioned minister's wife, benevolent and sheltered amidst her linens and roses. The film's sole significant flaw is a long-winded conclusion. It boldly trots past a handful of perfectly natural endings. Artful grump Jones has already obliterated our illusions regarding the push westward and submerged us in existential despondency, but he goes further still (farther than required), becoming heavy-handed in his torturous teasing of the audience's hopes and emotions during the final ten or 15 minutes.

B+

This was surprisingly really good. It tries to do a little too much with its plot but overall it's pretty engaging and the entire cast is great. B+