That Great Old Thing

Yesterday I drove to a nearby town to watch Gran Torino at the movie theater. It played here for awhile, but I never felt like going because I knew it was going to be a heavy, dark drama, and not too likely there would be anything upbeat, positive, funny or all that interesting about it. I had heard it was not one of Clint Eastwood's best movies, but that it was good and worth seeing. My dad was coming to visit, so I thought it would be a good thing to do with him. I remember going to the theater in the late 70s or early 80s to see Billy Bronco with him when I was about seven or eight. I thought it was going to be terrible. It was probably one of the first, if not the first, movies I saw at the theater. I remember watching Every Which Way But Loose and a whole string of a whole bunch of other Clint Eastwood movies with him. So, this gave me a good reason to watch Gran Torino, even if I had to drive 45 minutes to do it. We were about a half hour late, so we probably missed the first 10 minutes, but I didn't think we'd miss too much, because I could already tell it was one of those tension-building stories that would have a slow beginning and an important ending. One of the things I liked about it was the buildup of tension and suspense. If I were very young and watching it, I know Clint Eastwood's character, Walt, would have scared me. The anger in him was always boiling under the surface like an angry man's fury does. I don't like angry men. You're always afraid of the violence when he snaps, and you won't know what is going to get broken or how bad it might hurt. We, the viewers, aren't supposed to like him, especially, but to admire his absolute courage and directness. There was an annoying military drum-roll sound effect a few times in the movie when he got got angry and got his gun and pointed it at somebody. I'm not sure why it was important to have him show his biases toward people of other races. Was the point to show that he got over it in a lightning-quick instant, after so many years of living as a biased person, because it turned out his neighbors of another race were pretty nice and he had a lot in common with them? Was the point to show that the names he used for people of various ethnicities and nationalities just a game to him? Since he did the same things to his so-called friends, who were an Italian barber and an Irish construction site manager, maybe it was. I just didn't get the appeal of the car, Walt's prized possession, the Gran Torino. How many of us even knew what a Gran Torino was before we knew about this movie? The shot at the end of Walt's granddaughter hoping with anticipation she would inherit the car was too unbelievable. I can tell you with absolute certainty that that young girl would not want the Gran Torino, let alone be seen in it. It was a very male-oriented car, and I'm sure it had a great engine or something, but I could tell this girl wouldn't have cared about that -- but of course, Clint Eastwood movies are male-oriented anyway, so I probably shouldn't complain when it doesn't appeal to me. I can forgive, as with all Clint Eastwood and, for that matter, all James Bond movies, that they are oriented toward men and appreciate them for what they are. But the movie makers in Gran Torino couldn't make me feel anything about the girl's anticipation but disbelief and contempt for their mistake. It reminds me of when older relatives think you'll really love a certain gift of an old thing, and make a really big deal out of giving it to you. This old thing is dusty and smelly and old and doesn't work the way it should, and probably never did, and you have to smile and say thank you and explain how much you really appreciated receiving it, all the while wondering how you can get rid of it or not use it without anyone noticing.