The Gentle Americana of Cry Macho
Cry Macho, the latest from director and star Clint Eastwood, didn’t have to be a great movie in order to resonate. The image of the 90-year-old Clint wearing a cowboy hat on a horse packs an emotional punch on its own, and so the specifics of Cry Macho’s plot almost don’t matter. The good news is that this story of an aging ranch hand tasked with bringing a young boy from Mexico to the United States is a good one. Sometimes even great. Eastwood has been using his movies to comment on his public image for almost as long as he’s had one, and so Cry Macho’s themes won’t be a surprise to anyone with even a slight familiarity with Eastwood and his films. But criticisms over a lack of newness would be missing the point; with its warmth and attention to simple pleasures, the film ultimately serves as a gentle reminder of what makes life worth living.
Based on a 1975 novel by N. Richard Nash, the film takes place in 1979. It’s unclear exactly why that specific year was chosen, but positioning the story between the present and the golden age of the Wild West seems deliberate. There’s a timeless quality to this simple world of cowboys and ranchers.
It’s tempting to call Eastwood himself timeless, but he can’t hide his advanced age at this point. In a cinematic climate where the average age of blockbuster heroes is only growing younger, it can be jarring to see a mainstream movie starring a nonagenarian. Eastwood’s character of Mike Milo, a weary man facing the end of his cowboy career, certainly didn’t need to be 90; some of the more romantic plot points feel like they should center around a man closer to 60.
At first, there’s something vaguely embarrassing about seeing Eastwood inhabit the character. He can’t throw a punch like he used to, and to call a scene where he’s seduced by a much younger woman “unbelievable” is an understatement. What’s amazing is that, despite these limitations, there’s likely no one who could fill this role like Eastwood. It’s an understated performance, and he’s not afraid to let his wrinkled face and the surprisingly youthful glint in his eyes do the talking. That’s not to say he’s playing another one of his silent heroes. He speaks plenty, and his dialogue can meander and even feel improvised. If that sounds like a criticism, it’s not; it’s as effortless and naturalistic as any performance he’s given.
Eastwood’s later career has found him exploring and deconstructing American heroism, but viewers expecting any political messaging will be disappointed. Despite the potentially charged “crossing the border” plot, the film doesn’t tackle race or immigration like other Eastwood films have. Eastwood’s character finds beauty and community in Mexico, and there’s a theme of connection and hospitality that transcends politics or circumstance.
The film has inevitably been compared to Gran Torino, another 21st-century Eastwood film about an aging modern gunslinger who forms a bond with a teenage boy. The main difference is that the “gunslinger” of Cry Macho isn’t a gunslinger at all. Instead, he’s a cowboy in the classic sense, breaking horses and tending to animals, and cooking for his friends. Bloodshed could have been shoehorned into the script, but a violent showdown never really comes. If Gran Torino is about a man coming to terms with his legacy of violence, Cry Macho is about a man grappling with the breakdown of his larger-than-life image. When his masculine front turns out to not be enough, he decides to rely on his vulnerability instead. Interestingly, in a movie so obviously focused on interrogating his legend, Eastwood has given us a poignant look at the man underneath.
Movies about old cowboys reckoning with the past have been a cinematic staple for around a decade. Like Cry Macho’s protagonist, they can feel like a dying breed, but this doesn’t mean they’ll cease to exist. There will likely always be a place for this age-old story, but who will ever have the authority to tell it quite like Eastwood? He’s a once-in-a-lifetime movie star who defined a notion of masculinity for a generation and then worked harder than anyone else to critique that very same notion. Cry Macho isn’t for everyone. For many, Eastwood’s age and public image will be enough to write it off as harmless boomer escapism. But it's his age and experience that allowed him to make a film as tender as this one. And what’s so bad about harmlessness, anyway?
