“Get off my lawn.”
While I would not suggest that Clint Eastwood is big on sentimentality, he certainly knows how to elicit an emotional response from his audience without pandering to the tear-jerking conventions of Hollywood. You can be forgiven if you cried at the end of Million Dollar Baby, but it’s worthwhile to note that Eastwood did not. And if you did, no knock against you there, all it means is that you are not as tough as Clint Eastwood. Which is kind of like saying you are not as good at basketball as LeBron James. There is no shame there.
After all, being tough is what Clint Eastwood does. It’s what he does better than anyone else who ever took to the silver screen. There is no sight on a big screen quite like Clint narrowing his eyes and staring someone down. There is no doubt that this is the most intimidating sight in movies, and one can almost imagine his co-stars bolting off the set, sweating profusely, and thanking their lucky stars that the guns they work with in Hollywood shoot blanks.
Another thing Clint Eastwood does better than anyone else in the world is direct himself. If Gran Torino is the last acting role of his career, and he has said many times that it is, then we film-goers are losing out. Not just because we will no longer be able to see one of the greatest movie icons of all time, and not just because he can still bring it as an actor. No, we are losing because Eastwood is losing his most incredible tool as a director - himself as an actor.
Eastwood once said to Sergio Leone, when he started out in A Fistful of Dollars, “I don’t talk so good. But I stare real good.” And throughout his career, that has been his most dominant feature. His body may be that of a 78-year-old, but his eyes have not changed a bit. Nor has his flair for the bad-ass, western gunslinger style dialogue.
At one point, he walks up to a group of gangbangers and says “ever notice how once in a while, you come across somebody you shouldn’t have f–ed with? That’s me.” You have no doubt that although this man is almost 80 years old, he is exactly who he says he is. Someone these guys shouldn’t f– with. The gangbangers realize this too. And they split, backing down from Eastwood.
Imagine a movie where an 80-year-old man stares down gangbangers, and not only do you believe that this could happen, but you don’t even for a second question it. Imagine anyone other than Eastwood delivering this line. Hal Holbrook? Jack Nicholson? Forget it. Unless it was a ridiculous, late-career comedy, no director would have the balls to even try to create a scene like this. Unless that director is Eastwood, and he has this amazing actor to work with. Eastwood knows what Eastwood does best. And that is intimidating punks.
Amazingly though, Gran Torino IS something of a comedy. Eastwood’s Walt Kowalski is a tough-as-nails old man, still living the Korean war in his head, and he is also an unrepentantly racist old bastard, a bigoted coot. And, in his own way, he makes this quite funny for the first hour of the film. Walt sees his granddaughter in a midriff-baring shirt at the funeral of his wife, and his twisted-mouth sneer and the menacing growl that comes out of his throat could just as easily have come from a wolf or a leopard than from a human being.
I just have to throw one thing in here - there is but one negative thing I have to say about this movie. There is a scene (and you will know it when you see it) where a character has a Christ-like moment that is a little over the top. But that’s it. OK, on with the review.
His scenes with the local priest are equally funny, in a low-key way. Walt is a man long past caring what people think of him, and with the death of his wife, the need to be polite to anyone has completely evaporated. His savage verbal attacks on this young priest are truly amusing, as is the young man’s determination to weather the storm and eventually get through to old Walt. He promised Walt’s wife, on her deathbed, you see, that he would convince Walt to attend confession, at least once. And confession is not on Walt’s bucket list.
Now I feel bad for bringing up the Bucket List in this review. That was a sad, generic, silly old-man movie, while Gran Torino might be the best old-man movie of all time. As Eastwood growls and snarls and stares his way through everyone in his path, a Hmong family moves in next door. The comedy continues as Eastwood and the Hmong grandmother sit on their respective porches, snarling at each other and silently hating each other from a distance.
All this changes when the young boy in the family starts to get involved with a local Hmong gang, led by his cousin. The gang’s initiation is simple - young Thao must steal the old man’s prize possession - a 1972 Gran Torino that he treats better than his own children. When Thao’s attempt to steal the car fails, the gang attempts a reprisal against him, that’s when Walt steps in. As the fight spills into his yard, Eastwood steps out of his house with his shotgun, and utters perhaps the greatest bad-ass old-man line of all time: “Get off my lawn”.
Immediately, Walt becomes a hero of the neighbourhood, people who live in fear of these gangs. The Hmong families start bringing him tribute, and leaving it on his porch. His furious reaction at seeing the flowers and food lined up on his stairs is magnificent. Soon, the smart, vivacious young daughter of the Hmong family next door starts coming to see him, determined to break through his tough exterior, because she knows there’s a good man in there.
Again, big props to Eastwood for not letting this become sentinmental. He does not, really, let the old man’s guard down, he doesn’t let him become vulnerable and soft, Walt doesn’t cry and Walt doesn’t crack. Instead, Walt begins to take an interest in Thao and his family, and by extension he begins to take an interest in the gang that is preying on Thao and his family. There is more humour in this part of the movie, as Eastwood tries to “man-up” Thao, who is way too “sissy” to get a job or a girl.
But of course, the big moment in the movie comes at the very end. And I won’t ruin it for anyone because I fervently hope that people will get out to the theatre and see this one. Suffice it to say that it is a surprising, emotional and staggeringly powerful finish that is in no way sappy or sentimental. Clint Eastwood doesn’t do sappy and maudlin too well. He stares real well.
Clint Eastwood doesn’t do The Notebook and P.S. I Love You. You will not find contrived tear-jerking Kleenex moments in his films. He does Unforgiven and Mystic River and Million Dollar Baby. And Gran Torino stands with them all as one of the finest films of his career. It’s on DVD today. Go rent it.
