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Gran Torino marks Clint Eastwood's first sojourn in front of the camera since his Oscar-nominated performance in Million Dollar Baby, and many have supposed that it may be his last. That would be a true shame, because Gran Torino proves he's wasted behind the camera. Not that he's a bad director, by any means; he's proven his ability on many occasions - it's just that when he confines himself to directing duties he can't bring his charm and sheer starpower to bear. This latest effort proves precisely the impact he can have as an acting force. Through his immense charisma and (sometimes underrated) acting prowess, he ensures Walt Kowalski, who on the page is a potentially one-dimensional character, becomes believable, endearing and even, gosh darn it, loveable. He may be a grumpy old coot whose every utterance involves some sort of racial slur, but Clint finds and unearths the humanity in him.
Admittedly, for the early part of the film, Walt does skirt perilously close to being a caricature. He has a tendency to growl when he sees something he disapproves of (examples of which are not in short supply), and although it's funny for the first few times, it does start to become tiresome and wears out the joke. The appeal that Clint saw in the role does gradually become clear though, and it's not just limited to getting the opportunity for stringing together imaginative insults. Walt, in Clint's hands, becomes a layered character with deep, conflicting inner emotional turmoil, which is a characteristic that makes him more than just a retired Dirty Harry Callahan. He's lost his dearly loved wife, has a family who tolerates rather than likes him (a situation no doubt familiar to many real families with elderly relations), and still carries the mental scars from his participation in the Korean War. Then he catches one of his new neighbours, a teenage boy of Hmong (an exiled Vietnamese people) descent, trying to steal his treasured 1972 Ford Gran Torino.
In its early stages, Gran Torino does lurch around in search of a real point, and the script is just content to supply Walt with various racial stereotypes with whom he can verbally spar to somewhat comic effect. Eventually, though, once the real plot materialises - Walt takes said would-be car thief, named Thao, under his wing, at first unwillingly - the film starts to reveal a charm and thus-far-unglimpsed warmth. Clint acts everyone else off the screen; the film might as well be a one-man effort (Clint stars, directs, produces and even - yes! - sings on the soundtrack). Nevertheless, the young actors playing Thao (Bee Vang) and his sister Sue (Ahney Her) both can be proud of their work. When the narrative takes a more grim turn in the third act, it does have some dramatic punch, mainly because of the attachment that has developed to these characters. And when Clint's gravely singing voice fades in just before the end credits, well, that's just the icing on the cake.
The summary
A flawed but immensely likeable film with a typically magnetic central performance from Mr. Eastwood, who hopefully still has it in him to grace the screen again. (The box office performance of this film proves that his box office power remains in great shape too.)
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