I Watched Trouble With The Curve (2012, Dir. by Robert Lorenz)


I love baseball  and all of its traditions.

I love the idea that a pitcher has a mental connection with his catcher.  I love the stories of the minor leaguers who get their chance in the majors and who stun the world by coming out of nowhere to hit a home run on their first at bat.  I love all the stories about which batters corked their bats and which pitchers could still manage to get away with throwing a spitball.  I love baseball because watching it is a relaxing way to spend an afternoon but at the same time, the game is unpredictable.  Just one hit can change the momentum of an entire game and, until that final out, the game could be won by anyone.  I especially have a place in my heart for the legendary baseball scouts, the grouchy old men who would drive out to the middle of nowhere to watch a game and search for the next great homerun hitter.

That’s one reason why I hated Moneyball.  I thought Brad Pitt, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Chris Pratt, and Jonah Hill all did a good job and I loved Brent Jennings’s performance as Ron Washington but I hated the idea that the scouts and their instincts weren’t necessary because everything could just be determined by sabermetrics.  The idea that an algorithm could tell you everything you needed to know about how to put a team together felt like a crime against everything that makes baseball special and it deeply offended me as a fan.  Moneyball may feature a baseball team but it’s a movie about business, not the game.

That’s why I’m thankful for Trouble With The Curve.

Clint Eastwood stars as Gus Lobel, one of those plain-spoken, no-BS scouts that I love so much.  All of the team owners might be into sabermetrics but Gus knows that the best way to scout a player is to actually hit the road and see him play.  For Gus, scouting is all about instincts and his own gut feeling.  Gus is everything that I love about baseball.  He’s knows the game, he knows the players, and he doesn’t need an algorithm to tell him whether or not someone should be on the field.

The movie is about Gus scouting a player who has trouble hitting the curve.  That’s something that Gus notices but the algorithm overlooks.  Accompanying Gus is his daughter, Mickey (Amy Adams), who is proud to have grown up surrounded by plain-spoken, unpretentious baseball scouts like her father and who doesn’t understand why Gus never took her on the road when she was younger.  Mickey falls for a younger scout named Johnny (Justin Timberlake), their love based on their shared knowledge of baseball.  I liked Mickey and Johnny as a couple and I appreciated the scenes where Mickey and Gus worked on their strained relationship but the best thing about this movie is that  Gus gets to prove that he knows more about baseball than all the young whipper-snappers who think they understand the game.

Trouble With The Curve is a tribute to everything that baseball is truly about.  It’s a movie that loves the game as much as I do.  Clint Eastwood and Amy Adams are a perfect father/daughter duo.  Who needs an algorithm when you’ve got Clint and Amy?

I Watched The Bridges of Madison County (1995, Dir. by Clint Eastwood)


The Bridges of Madison County starts with a mystery.  A sister and her brother try to find out why their mother requested that she be cremated and her ashes scattered from a bridge rather than be buried next to her late husband.  Going through their mother’s things, they learn about four-day affair that she had with a photographer who was just passing through town and taking pictures of covered bridges.

Meryl Streep plays their mother, an Italian war bride named Francesca.  Clint Eastwood plays the photographer, Robert Kincaid.  The movie shows how Francesca, trapped in a loveless marriage, rediscovered her passion for life and love during her four-day affair with Robert.  Robert rediscovered his love for photography.  (I like to take pictures so I was happy for him.)  With her family due home after a trip to the Iowa State Fair, Francesca had to decide whether to abandon them to pursue her affair with Robert.  Since this is the first that her children have ever heard about the affair, it’s easy to guess what she decided to do.

My aunt loved this film and I like it too.  It’s the most tasteful film about a woman being tempted to abandon her family that I’ve ever seen.  It’s a film about adultery that the entire family can enjoy!  The film looks beautiful and Meryl and Clint … wow!  Let’s just say that they seemed to be really into each other.  The two leads give such heartfelt performances that every moment felt authentic and by the end of the movie, I very much wanted to see Francesca’s ashes dumped over the side of that bridge.  Whenever anyone says that Clint Eastwood could only play cops and cowboys, tell them to watch Bridges of Madison County.

Film Review: City Heat (dir by Richard Benjamin)


In 1984’s City Heat, Clint Eastwood plays Lt. Speer, a tough and taciturn policeman who carries a big gun, throws a mean punch, and only speaks when he absolutely has to.

Burt Reynolds plays Mike Murphy, a private investigator who has a mustache, a wealthy girlfriend (Madeleine Kahn), and a habit of turning everything into a joke.

Together, they solve crimes!

I’m not being sarcastic here.  The two of them actually do team up to solve a crime, despite having a not quite friendly relationship.  (Speer has never forgiven Murphy for quitting the force and Murphy has never forgiven Speer for being better at everything than Murphy is.)  That said, I would be hard-pressed to give you the exact details of the crime.  City Heat has a plot that can be difficult to follow, not because it’s complicated but because the film itself is so poorly paced and edited that the viewer’s mind tends to wander.  The main impression that I came away with is that Speer and Murphy like to beat people up.  In theory, there’s nothing wrong with that.  Eastwood is legendary tough guy.  Most people who watch an Eastwood film do so because they’re looking forward to him putting the bad guys in their place, whether it’s with a gun, his fists, or a devastating one-liner.  Reynolds also played a lot of tough characters, though they tended to be more verbose than Eastwood’s.

That said, the violence in City Heat really does get repetitive.  There’s only so many times you can watch Clint punching Burt while various extras get gunned down in the background before it starts to feel a little bit boring.  The fact that the film tries to sell itself as a comedy while gleefully mowing down the majority of the supporting cast doesn’t help.  Eastwood snarls like a pro and Reynolds flashes his devil-may-care smile but, meanwhile, Richard Roundtree is getting tossed out a window, Irene Cara is getting hit by a car, and both Kahn and Jane Alexander are being taken hostage.  Tonally, the film is all over the place.  Director Richard Benjamin was a last-minute replacement for Blake Edwards and he directs without any sort of clear vision of just what exactly this film is supposed to be.

On the plus side, City Heat takes place in Kansas City in 1933 and the production design and the majority of the costumes are gorgeous.  (Unfortunately, the film itself is often so underlit that you may have to strain your eyes to really appreciate it.)  And the film also features two fine character actors, Rip Torn and Tony Lo Bianco, are the main villains.  For that matter, Robert Davi shows up as a low-level gangster and he brings an actual sense of menace to his character.  There are some good things about City Heat but overall, the film is just too messy and the script is a bit too glib for its own good.

Burt Reynolds and Clint Eastwood had apparently been friends since the early days of their careers.  This was the only film that they made together.  Interestingly enough, Reynolds gets the majority of the screentime.  Eastwood may be top-billed but his role really is a supporting one.  Unfortunately, Reynolds seems to be kind of bored with the whole thing.  As for Clint, he snarls with the best of them but the film really doesn’t give him much to do.

A disappointing film, City Heat.  Watching a film like this, it’s easy to see why Eastwood ended up directing himself in the majority of his films.

Pale Rider (dir. by Clint Eastwood)


We continue the Shattered Lens’ celebration of Clint Eastwood with 1985’s Pale Rider, one of my favorites. This was a film my long time friend Jay shared with me many years ago, as he owns most of Eastwood’s library of films. I like to think of it as a softer version of Eastwood’s own High Plains Drifter, which my father loved, but I couldn’t really get. It’s a tale of vengeance, but wrapped more in miracles. 

You should first know that Westerns aren’t really my genre when it comes to film types I often watch. I don’t have a lot of historical background when it comes to Westerns overall. If you asked for a short list of my favorites, I’d give up Rustler’s Rhapsody (it’s a fun comedy), The Good, The Bad & The Ugly (my Dad watched it often), Blazing Saddles, and in terms of books, the first few books of Stephen King’s The Dark Tower. I only recently watched Shaneafter Logan was first released, and I love the Red Dead Redemption games.

Pale Rider takes place in California around the time of the gold rush. Outside the town of LaHood, named after the wicked Coy LaHood (Richard Dysart, The Thing), we have a group of miners settled in that are hoping to strike it rich. It’s somewhat difficult with LaHood’s henchmen trying to drive them out at every turn, to steal the land. Hull Barrett (Michael Moriarty, Q The Winged Serpent) hopes to be successful, living with his fiancé Sarah (Carrie Snodgress, The Fury) and her daughter, Meghan (Sydney Penny, The Wife He Met Online). The most recent attack from LaHood’s men has shattered the miners’ morale and few are spared. Even Meghan’s dog is killed, causing her to wish for a miracle.

When LaHood’s son, Josh (Chris Penn, True Romance) and some other baddies (including The Thing‘s Charles Callahan, reuniting with Dysart) confront Hull, a stranger steps in. He handles them all easily with an axe handle, and as thanks, Hull welcomes him to the Miners area for room and board. Of course, having a stranger brings up all sorts of questions from the townsfolk, who don’t appear to be too trusting. Is he an outlaw, possibly? Even Meghan’s a little apprehensive at first, with her quote from Revelations 6:8 forshadowing the Pale Rider’s presence. Everyone is put at ease when they find our stranger is actually a Preacher, though Hull is still a bit curious about the six bullet sized scars on the man’s back. Can the Preacher help the Miners keep their land and stop LaHood? 

From a casting standpoint, Pale Rider is damn near perfect. Although Eastwood is the main star in his own film, he comes across more as an accessory for everyone else in scenes. Moriarty does most of the heavy lifting, as does Snodgress and Penny. Their characters are all easily likable and the supporting cast (particularly Doug McGrath’s Spider) shine in their parts. Dysart’s LaHood is a dark character and there’s a wonderful verbal conflict between him and Eastwood in one scene that’s just sweet to watch to see who loses their cool first. 

Pale Rider is both pretty simple and well executed from a story standpoint. It bears some similarities to Eastwood’s other film, High Plains Drifter. Though the town isn’t painted in red, there are allusions to the idea that the Preacher may be something of.a specter or ghost of vengeance. We’re not given any kind of full story as to why the Preacher’s here. We are shown that both The Preacher and LaHood’s Marshall, Stockburn (John Russell, The Outlaw Josey Wales) share a history, but that’s it. The story, like the Preacher and the events around him, moves in mysterious ways. 

What I love the most about Pale Rider is the way the Preacher changes the minds (and hearts) of those around him. The miners learn to fend for themselves. His enemies are often in shock over what he does (and at least one flips from bad to good). It kind of reminds me of Wild West version of John Wick or Nobody, with a character whose reputation precedes him. 

Bruce Surtees was the Cinematographer for Pale Rider, who also worked on a number of Eastwood’s earlier films, including The Outlaw Josey Wales and Play Misty for Me. Pale Rider has some beautiful landscape shots of the West (as the film was filmed in Idaho). Despite all the well lit shots, there are still moments where faces are obscured by the brim of a hat or the contrasts in a candlelit room. 

The story isn’t without some dark areas or some odd moments. A dog is killed, and there’s a scene where Meghan is nearly raped, but there’s some intervention before things can get out of hand. Both instances help to show how dark the villains are in the overall tale. Both Sarah and Meghan seem to take their own shine to The Preacher, one already in a relationship and the other too young for what she’s asking for, but I took it to just be that their both a bit mesmerized by the Preacher’s presence in different ways. 

Overall, Pale Rider is a wonderful offering by Eastwood, with fine performances by everyone involved. The Preacher does what he can to make things better around him with a peaceful approach. When push comes to shove, however, the guns come out blazing. 

The Unnominated #17: Honkytonk Man (dir by Clint Eastwood)


Though the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences claim that the Oscars honor the best of the year, we all know that there are always worthy films and performances that end up getting overlooked.  Sometimes, it’s because the competition too fierce.  Sometimes, it’s because the film itself was too controversial.  Often, it’s just a case of a film’s quality not being fully recognized until years after its initial released.  This series of reviews takes a look at the films and performances that should have been nominated but were, for whatever reason, overlooked.  These are the Unnominated.

1982’s Honkytonk Man was a Clint Eastwood film that I had never heard of, until I came across it on Prime.  I decided to take a chance and I rented it.  I’m glad that I did because it turned out to be one of Eastwood’s best films.

Clint stars as Red Stovall, a country singer turned farmer during the Great Depression.  Kyle Eastwood stars as Red’s nephew, 14 year-old Whit “Hoss” Wagoneer.  When Red gets an opportunity to perform at the Grand Old Opry, he decides to head for Tennessee.  Since Red is dying of tuberculosis and barely knows how to drive a car, he is accompanied by Grandpa Wagoneer (John McIntire) and Whit.  Whit may be young but he knows how to drive and soon, he’s driving Red and Grandpa across the country.  When a highway patrolman (Tim Thomerson) stops them, he says that Whit is too young to drive.  After watching a speeding Red struggle to keep the car in the right lane, the patrolman pulls up beside them and says, “Let the kid drive.”

Honkytonk Man features an unexpected performance from Eastwood.  Typically, we think of Eastwood’s characters as being the epitome of cool.  Red is definitely not that.  Red is a screw-up, someone who gets arrested while trying to steal chickens and who frequently gets conned by those that he meets during his journey.  When the car breaks down in Arkansas, Red is too busy drinking to remember to catch the bus to Tennessee.  He spends the night with a hitchhiker named Marlene (Alexa Kernin).  The next morning, Whit wakes Red up and informs him that he only has a few minutes before the next bus leaves.  Marlene announces that she’s pregnant.  “HOLD THE BUS!” Red yells as he hastily puts on his clothes.

That said, Whit loves his uncle and the two Eastwoods, Clint and Kyle, both give excellent performances in Honkytonk Man.  In fact, his performance here is probably the best that Clint Eastwood has ever given.  Clint plays with his own image here.  Initially, the film almost feels like a satire of Clint’s hypermasculine persona.  (There is one scene where Eastwood handles a gun but it doesn’t play out the way that you might expect it to.)  But, as the film progresses and Red’s illness grows worse, we start to understand Red and his way of looking at the world.  Red is flawed but he loves his nephew and he loves music and, in the end, what’s important is not whether or not his song were recorded but instead that he spent his final days with Whit.  The film may start out as a comedy but it ultimately becomes a meditation on aging and how one faces the inevitability of death.

As a director, Eastwood takes his time.  He lets the movie play out slowly, with the casual pace of country story.  It’s a film full of wonderful performance and beautiful visuals and it more than earns our patience.  Wisely, Eastwood the director realizes that this story really isn’t about Red.  The story is about Whit (or Hoss, as he asks to be known) and his experiences with his uncle.  Whit worships his uncle but he also comes to learn that the most important thing is to be able to respect yourself.  In this film, Clint Eastwood knows the story that he’s telling and he knows exactly how to tell it.

Honkytonk Man went unnominated as far as the Oscars are concerned.  In the year when the well-intentioned but dramatically inert Gandhi dominated the awards and the nominations, Honkytonk Man was forgotten.  That’s a shame.

Previous Entries In The Unnominated:

  1. Auto Focus 
  2. Star 80
  3. Monty Python and The Holy Grail
  4. Johnny Got His Gun
  5. Saint Jack
  6. Office Space
  7. Play Misty For Me
  8. The Long Riders
  9. Mean Streets
  10. The Long Goodbye
  11. The General
  12. Tombstone
  13. Heat
  14. Kansas City Bomber
  15. Touch of Evil
  16. The Mortal Storm

Film Review: Bronco Billy (dir by Clint Eastwood)


In 1980’s Bronco Billy, Clint Eastwood plays Billy McCoy.

Billy is an aging cowboy, a trick-shooter who owns Bronco Billy’s Wild West, a traveling circus that has definitely seen better days.  Bronco Billy and his friends travel the country, going from small town to small town and putting on a show.  Billy is definitely the star and the highlight of each show is him shooting balloons and tossing a knife while his female assistant is strapped on a revolving disk.  Unfortunately, Billy’s latest assistant flinches and gets a knife in her leg.  Billy needs a new assistant and, wouldn’t you know it, Antoinette Lily (Sondra Locke) needs a job!

Antoinette is a runaway bride.  She married John Arlington (Geoffrey Lewis), not because she loved him but because she needed to get married by the time she turned 30 or she would lose her inheritance.  After the ceremony but before the wedding night, Antoinette fled.  The police assume that John murdered her and promptly arrest him.  John, suspecting that his wife is still alive, pleads insanity so that he can avoid the electric chair.

As Billy’s assistant, Antoinette challenges the way that Billy has always done the show, often to such an extent that you really have to wonder why she sticks around.  Since this is a Clint Eastwood film, there a bar brawl where Billy rescues her from being assaulted by a couple of rednecks.  Unfortunately, Antoinette’s arrival coincides with a string of accidents and other unfortunate incidents.  The other members of the show start to suspect that Antoinette might be bad luck.  Myself, I’m not superstitious and I don’t think that people can bring bad luck.  I think people make their own luck.  However, it’s hard to overlook the fact that Antoinette finds out that her husband is facing the death penalty due to her disappearance and her reaction is to basically shrug it off.  Sondra Locke gives a rather flat performance was Antoinette, suggesting none of the quirkiness necessary to make her anything more than a very childish and very self-centered person.  Antoinette is a role that demands the eccentricity of a young Sissy Spacek or Shelley Duvall or even Beverly D’Angelo, who did such a good job in Every Which Way But Loose.  Sondra Locke gives a boring performance and it drags down the film.

That said, there is a lot to like about Bronco Billy.  In many ways, this film feels like Clint Eastwood’s take on a Robert Altman film.  The plot is episodic and casual and the best scenes are the ones the emphasize the members of the circus as being a family of misfits.  (Indeed, one reason why Locke’s performance feels so jarringly wrong is because both she and Antoinette never seem to be interested in the other members of the show.)  Billy may be their leader and their main attraction but every member of the show plays a role in keeping Billy’s Wild West alive.  Scotman Crothers, Sam Bottoms, Bill McKinney, Dan Vadis, and Sierra Pecheur all give likable performances that bring the film’s world to life.  The film becomes about more than just the aging Billy trying to find his place in a changing world.  It’s a film about a group of people who have come together to form their own community and, by the end of the movie, it’s a community that you can’t help but love.  In many ways, this film features both Eastwood the director and Eastwood the actor at his gentlest and most humanistic.  Billy and his show bring the old west to a new America and, in the end, you’re happy they did.

Film Review: Any Which Way You Can (dir by Buddy Van Horn)


In this 1980 sequel to Every Which Way But Loose, Philo and his orangutan Clyde are still living next door to Orville (Geoffrey Lewis) and his mother (Ruth Gordon).  Philo is still working as a truck driver but he’s becoming far better known as a bare-knuckles brawler.  In fact, when another famous fighter named Jack Wilson (William Smith), moves to the area, everyone assumes that Jack wants to challenge Philo.  It turns out that Jack’s actually a pretty nice guy.  He and Philo become jogging buddies.

Remember Lynn Halsey-Taylor (Sondra Locke), the extremely self-centered singer who broke Philo’s heart in the first film?  Well, she’s back and she’s changed her ways.  When she and Philo meet in a bar, Lynn apologizes to him for her past behavior and soon, she and Philo are a couple again.  Booo!  Seriously, Eastwood and Locke somehow have even less chemistry here than they did in the first film.  (Again, Locke and Eastwood were in a relationship at the time, which makes their total lack of chemistry even more interesting to consider.)  Everyone in the film is surprisingly forgiving of Lynn, considering that she was portrayed as being nearly sociopathic in the previous film.  Even Clyde seems to be happy to have her back.  Of course, Clyde gets to have a romance of his own, with another orangutan.  Clyde has sex with his partner while Philo and Lynne fool around in the room next door.  It’s …. kind of weird.

Anyway, the Mafia really wants Philo and Jack to fight so they decide to kidnap Lynn in order to force the fight to happen.  Instead, Jack and Philo team up to rescue Lynn and to put those gangsters in their place.  That might sound dramatic but this film is very much a redneck comedy so these are probably the least intimidating mafia soldier that I’ve ever seen.  Just as the previous film’s outlaw bikers (and they also make a return appearance in this film) were too buffoonish to be truly menacing, the same is true of the Mafia in this film.

In the end, Philo and Jack do have a fight but it’s under their own terms and, afterwards, they accompany each other to the hospital.  It’s kind of a nice moment, really.  Even after beating the hell out of each other and causing more than a few broken bones, Philo and Jack are still friends.  It’s a nice touch that Jack was played by William Smith, who was a bit of a low-budget version of Clint Eastwood.

Indeed, with Geoffrey Lewis relegated to a supporting role and Sondra Locke abducted by the mafia, the friendship between Philo and Jack becomes the heart of the film and if there is really anything that makes this film memorable, it’s the scenes that Eastwood shares with William Smith.  These two tough guys actors seem to have a natural understanding of each other and their friendship and mutual respect feels real.  They may fight but it’s only out respect for each other.  It’s a shame that Eastwood and Smith didn’t team up for more films.

Any Which Way You Can is an amiable comedy.  It’s not as much fun as Every Which Way But Loose.  Beverly D’Angelo’s Echo is missed but she was presumably busy filming Coal Miner’s Daughter at the time.  The film works best as a buddy movie.  Clint Eastwood, William Smith, Geoffrey Lewis, and an orangutan.  What a team!

Film Review: Every Which Way But Loose (dir by James Fargo)


In 1978’s Every Which Way But Loose, Clint Eastwood plays Philo Beddoe.

Philo’s an ordinary guy with beautiful hair and a way with throwing punches.  He’s a truck driver.  He enjoys a cold beer.  He enjoys country music.  He makes some extra money by taking part in bare-knuckle brawls.  Everyone says that he could be the next Tank Murdock, a legendary fighter.  Philo is just a simple, blue collar guy who lives in a small house, next door to his best friend Orville (Geoffrey Lewis) and Orville’s profanity-loving mother (Ruth Gordon).  Philo also owns an orangutan named Clyde.  He saved Clyde from being sent to live in a “desert zoo.”

(Actually, now that I think about it, most blue collar guys don’t own monkeys but whatever.  Clyde’s cute and Eastwood’s Eastwood.)

When Philo meets a country singer named Lynn Halsey-Taylor (Sondra Locke), he is immediately smitten.  When Lynn disappears and leaves Philo a cryptic note, Philo decides to go looking for her.  Clyde, Orville, and Philo hit the road.  Along the way, Orville meets and picks up a woman named Echo (Beverly D’Angelo).  This is a road movie so, of course, Clyde, Orville, Philo, and Echo have their adventures on the way to Colorado.  They end running afoul both a corrupt cop and a gang of buffoonish bikers.  Philo enters a fight whenever they need money and one occasionally gets the feeling that Eastwood took this role to show off the fact that, for someone approaching 50, he still looked good without a shirt on.  And good for him!  Because, seriously, Clint does look good in this movie….

I have to admit that, for all of my attempts at sophistication, my roots are in the country and I’ve traveled down enough dirt roads that I find it hard to resist a good redneck story.  And really, there aren’t many films that as proudly and unashamedly redneck than Every Which Way But Loose.  It’s a film that has a laid back, take-it-as-it-comes vibe to it.  Philo may be looking for Lynn but he seems to be okay with taking a few detour along the way.  There’s no real sense of urgency to any part of the movie.  Instead, Every Which Way But Loose was made for people who like a cold beer at the end of the day and who find Ruth Gordon to be hilarious when she curses.  Myself, I don’t drink.  That’s one part of the country lifestyle that passed me over.  But I did enjoy seeing Ruth Gordon cuss out the Nazi biker gang.

Eastwood, Lewis, and D’Angelo have a likable chemistry and the monkey’s cute.  Unfortunately, Sondra Locke isn’t particularly well-cast in the role of Lynn.  (Considering that she was in a relationship with Eastwood, it’s amazing how little chemistry they have in this movie.)  As I watched the film, it occurred to me that it probably would have worked better if Locke and D’Angelo had switched roles.  Locke’s character is supposed to be a femme fatale type but she gives a boring performance and, as a result, the revelation that Philo has misjudged her doesn’t really carry any emotional weight.

That said, this film features some beautiful shots of the wilderness, a charming romance between Lewis and D’Angelo, and a shirtless Clint Eastwood beating folks up.  That’s more than enough to please this secret country girl.

Days of Paranoia: The Gauntlet (dir by Clint Eastwood)


In 1977’s The Gauntlet, Dirty Harry is sent….

Oh wait, sorry.  This is not a Dirty Harry movie.  It sure feels like a Dirty Harry movie but it’s not.  And really, the character that Clint Eastwood plays in this movie, Phoenix Detective Ben Shockley, is different from Dirty Harry Callahan.  Shockley is a cynical (and single) detective who does things his own way.  He’s got that in common with Callahan.  But Shockley is also an alcoholic and that’s something that Harry would never allow himself to become.  Harry may be unpredictable but he’s disciplined and he’s always in control.  The other big difference is that Shockley has a little more faith in his fellow cops than Harry does.  As a result, Shockley gets set-up in a trap that Harry would have seen coming from miles away.

Shockley is sent to Las Vegas to pick up a prostitute named Augustina and bring her back to Arizona.  Augustina — who goes by Gus — is played by Sondra Locke.  This was the second film that Eastwood and Locke made together.  As a result of preparing for today’s Eastwood marathon, I watched all of the Eastwood/Locke films.  The Gauntlet features Locke’s best performance opposite Eastwood.  (She was good in The Outlaw Josey Wales but her role was also fairly small and simple.)  As opposed to her later films, Locke actually has a good deal of romantic chemistry when Eastwood in this film and, even more importantly, she actually seems invested in the role.  She plays Gus as being a feisty asskicker.  It doesn’t matter that she’s in jail or that she’s handcuffed or that she’s been escorted to another state.  Gus isn’t going to let anyone tell her what to do.   It’s impossible not to root for both her and Shockley in this film.

Of course, it turns out that Shockley has been set up.  Phoenix Police Commissioner Blakelock (William Prince) and District Attorney John Feyderspiel (Michael Cavanaugh) both have their own reasons for not wanting Gus to make it to Phoenix and they’re both willing to sacrifice Shockley to get to her.  They assumed that Shockley, being an alcoholic, would be easy to defeat.  Did they not consider that, alcoholic or not, Ben Shockley is played by Clint Eastwood?  Every attempt that is made to stop him just makes Shockley all the more determined to get Gus to Phoenix.  The film becomes a particularly violent take on It Happened One Night, going as far as to have Gus and Shockley take over a bus on their way to Phoenix.

Ah, the bus.  The Gauntlet climaxes with a scene in which literally thousands of bullets are fired into a bus that Shockley and Gus are driving through Phoenix.  It’s an exciting sequence, one that’s so gloriously over-the-top that you can’t help but feel that Eastwood was poking fun at his own persona.  At the same time, the sequence also works as a commentary on the blind obedience necessary for an authoritarian to come to power.  The cops who have lined up to shoot at the bus open fire when they’re ordered to, without asking why a bus has to be riddled with bullets.  Eastwood manages to mix a healthy dose of paranoia with his satire.

Though the plot (much like the bus) is riddled with holes, The Gauntlet‘s an entertaining film.  Between Eastwood and Locke’s chemistry and the explosive action sequences, The Gauntlet is a film you can’t look away from.

Film Review: The Outlaw Josey Wales (dir by Clint Eastwood)


Towards the end of 1976’s The Outlaw Josey Wales, Josey (played by Clint Eastwood) says, “I guess we all died a little in that damned war.”

He’s referring to the American Civil War and the film leaves you with no doubt that Wales knew what he was talking about.  A farmer living in Missouri, Josey Wales wasn’t involved in the Civil War until a group of guerillas, the Redlegs, raided his home and killed his family.  Seeking vengeance, Wales joined the Bushwackers, a group of Confederate guerillas that were led by the infamous “Bloody Bill” Anderson.  After Anderson’s death and the South’s surrender, Senator James H. Lane (Frank Schofield) offers amnesty to any of the Bushwackers willing to surrender and declare their loyalty to the United States.  Fletcher (John Vernon), the leader of the surviving Bushwackers, thinks it’s a good idea and his men eventually agree to surrender.

Everyone except for Josey Wales.

Fletcher tells Josey that he’ll be an outlaw and that Lane will send his men to capture and execute him.  “I reckon so,” Josey Wales replies.  It’s not that Josey was particularly a fan of the Confederate cause.  Instead, having lost his family and his home and having seen hundreds of men killed, Josey no longer cares.  He’s got a death wish, something that becomes apparent when he later sneaks over to Lane’s camp and discovers that the leader of the Redlegs, Terrill (Bill McKinney), has been made a captain in the Union Army.  The surrendering Bushwackers, with the exception of Fletcher and a young man named Jamie (Sam Bottoms), are gunned down as they swear allegiance to the United States.  Joey springs into action, hijacking a Gatling gun and mowing down soldiers.  It’s a suicidal move and Josey appears to be willing to die, until he sees that Jamie has been wounded.  Josey and Jamie go on the run, pursued by soldiers and bounty hunters.

It sounds like the start of typical Clint Eastwood film and, make no mistake about it, The Outlaw Josey Wales features everything that most people have come to expect from Eastwood.  Josey Wales is an expert shot, often firing two guns while charging forward on his horse.  Josey has a way of words, explaining the purpose of getting “plain man dog mean” and telling a bounty hunter that there are better ways to make a living.  The main difference, though, is that Josey is no longer seeking revenge.  He’s lost his family and his home and he knows nothing is going to bring them back.  He sought revenge during the Civil War and saw so many people killed that, much like Jimmy Stewart in Broken Arrow, he just wants to disappear from civilization.

The problem is that men like Lane and Terrill have no intention of letting Josey Wales disappear.  The sociopathic Terrill sees it as almost being his God-given duty to kill Josey Wales and anyone else that he dislikes.  The bounty hunters are also after Josey Wales.  As Fletcher explains it, bounty hunting is the only way that many former soldiers can make money and feed their families.  As Josey moves through the southwest, his legend grows.  Every town that Josey stops in, he hears stories about the growing number of men that he has supposedly killed.

Josey also discovers that he can’t do it all alone.  He soon finds himself as a part of a new family, a collection of misfits that don’t have a home in Senator Lane’s America.  Lone Waite (Chief Dan George) is an elderly Cherokee man who suggests that Josey head for Mexico.  Little Moonlight (Geraldine Keams) is a Navajo woman who Josey rescues from two bounty hunters.  Sarah Turner (Paula Trueman) and her granddaughter, Laura Lee (Sondra Locke), are rescued from Comancheros.  Josey negotiates the release of two of Sarah’s ranch hands and befriends Chief Ten Bears (Will Sampson) while doing so.  Slowly, Josey comes out of his shell and starts to embrace life once again.  Josey goes from searching for death to searching for peace.

It’s one of Eastwood’s best films, ending on a note of not violence but instead sad regret.  It’s not only a portrait of a man learning to embrace life but it’s also a portrait of a country trying to figure out how to come back together after the bloody savagery of the Civil War.  Some, like Fletcher and Josey, want to move on.  Others, like Terrill, don’t have an identity beyond fighting and killing.  Eastwood gives a good performance but, as a director, he gives every member of the cast a chance to shine.  If you only know John Vernon as Dean Wormer from Animal House, his sad-eyed performance here will be a revelation.

Originally, The Outlaw Josey Wales was meant to be directed by Phillip L. Kaufman but Eastwood felt that Kaufman was taking too long to set up his shots and worrying about details that really didn’t matter.  Reportedly, while Kaufman was away from the set, spending hours searching for a historically-correct beer bottle to be used in a bar scene, Eastwood directed the scene himself and then convinced producer Robert Daley to fire Kaufman and allow Eastwood to direct the film.  (Kaufman also objected to the script’s anti-government subtext but seriously, that’s pretty much the subtext of every film that Eastwood has ever been involved with.)  The DGA later instituted a rule that, on productions in which the director was fired,  the replacement could not be a member of his crew or an actor in the cast but that was too late to help out Kaufman.

(Rumor has it that another reason Kaufman was fired was because he and Eastwood both “liked” Sondra Locke.  This was the first of six films that Eastwood and Locke would do together.)

To be honest, I think it worked out in the film’s favor.  It’s a little surprising that someone other than Eastwood was ever considered as director to be begin with, so perfectly does the story and the lead character fit with Eastwood’s persona.  Eastwood captures both the beauty of the untouched land and also the bloody violence of combat.  In many ways, this film almost feels like a prequel to UnforgivenThe Outlaw Josey Wales is Eastwood at his best.