Clint Eastwood is synonymous with masculinity, yet there’s something so pretty about his taut and wizened face.
This film, which Eastwood not only stars in but also directs, feels topical. It’s based on the true story of an 88-year-old Caucasian who earned a fortune for himself and a Mexican drug cartel by transporting cocaine from Arizona to Detroit. T
he police and FBI were looking out for dangerous hombres. Nothing could have been more innocent in their eyes than a white old-timer.
What follows is a mix of zeitgeisty humour and feel-good schmaltz. Sharp scenes, many involving Bradley Cooper and Michael Peña as federal agents, highlight the effect of casual and systemic racism on the body politic. The focus, though, is always on our charmingly wayward hero Earl (Eastwood, perfect).
The Old Man and the Gun, starring Robert Redford, had the same breezy vibe. Both movies are alert to ageism. They also attempt a tricky balancing act, keen to appeal to older female audiences (Dianne Wiest has a half-meaty part here as Earl’s bitter but kind-hearted ex-wife), while suggesting you can’t keep an old man down. The young prostitutes Earl meets on his “runs” can’t get enough of him (all of his threesomes are a great success).
Just as in the Redford vehicle, too, prison holds no sting. Both crime and punishment, in other words, get bathed in sunshine. Watching this movie is like checking the news after popping a Xanax. The world’s going to hell in a handcart. But it’s all good.
