Masterpiece. As terrific a Clint Eastwood movie as has ever been, Gran Torino delivers everything a perfect movie should: it’s funny as hell, deeply engaging, warmly affecting, sad yet uplifting. Movies come fancier, bigger, louder, pricier, and with higher reality factors, but they don’t come any better than this.
A successful director for almost forty years now (Play Misty For Me got him started in 1971), we’ve only thunk of Clint as more filmmaker than movie star during the past decade. Reviewing Changeling recently, I asked how often someone rises to the apex in two disciplines within one rarefied endeavor? Gran Torino reminds us of Clint’s peaks: why he came to personify the man of action, and has long been a top director.
The movie wears its ambitions on its sleeve by naming Clint’s character “Walt Kowalski,” the last name shared with A Streetcar Named Desire’s Stanley, legendarily personified by the young Marlon Brando. So here in Gran Torino we have a rookie screenwriter who names his own emotionally inchoate brute “Kowalski,” then gets a Brando-sized legend to play the part. Ballsy, and it worked.
Speaking of naming, while I recall Gran Torinos as second rate pony cars, the name sure is satiny and sophisticated.
Classic Clint: growling, gritty and ultimately gracious. For this movie lover as for most, a newly minted classic performance from the old lion is cause for thanksgiving. Has anyone ever played the reluctant killer better? Or used that reputation to greater effect in showing the wages of murderous sin? It was amazing enough watching him do it in Unforgiven. Now he’s done it again.
The Hmong costars were fine in their roles, amazingly enough since all but one are amateurs. The grandma was notably impressive, especially in her ability to spit a torrent of tobacco juice, so I gave her a 4.0 Great in the Female Costar rating.
Gran Torino does to modern revenge dramas what Unforgiven did to Westerns: use their hoary old conventions to subvert the genre. This movie speaks to changes in America (cities degrade, new immigrant groups struggle to establish themselves), changes in generations (an emotionally remote grandfather begets emotionally besotted offspring), and to the healing power of human connection.
As with Unforgiven, Clint plays an aged warrior troubled by the killing he did as a young man. Here that setup leads him to make peace with his racial demons, his paternal demons, and his automotive obsession. It’s a hat trick.
Spectacularly salty language: Racist invective has rarely been so smoothly delivered, nor so frequently funny. Every protected group gets skewered.
Violence-wise, there’s a climactic gun battle, and the movie shows the aftermath of a brutal rape, which I’m accounting for by raising both the Sex and Violence ratings, since rape is violence delivered through sex.
My own dream car was stolen out of my driveway two days before I saw Gran Torino. So I’m relating to old Walt Kowalski, except I’d argue that my Infiniti M45 Sport was even sweeter than his Ford pony car. The movie thief is a kid trying to resist the lure of the streets. My thieves already live on the streets, so I’ve got like zero hope of getting any solace out of this. Happy endings like that only happen in the movies.
Given this, I thought it would be fitting for me to post a picture of an M45 instead of a Gran Torino in the WikChip. Mine was a shade darker than the one pictured, with the same tan interior. It was a rocking ride.
Yeah, it really was a triumph considering it was ol’ Clint’s last movie as an actor.
Regarding MetalJunky5000’s Review
As someone who also thought Gran Torino was Perfect, welcome to the club. Like you said “this is right up there with some of the best movies I’ve ever seen.” I agree, though it’s interesting that several other WikPik reviewers – some of whom I have on my Trusted list – didn’t agree. Go figure.