Old Men and Their Guns
I forgot to post last week's review but, as it turns out, these two films make for a very interesting double bill.
Both reviews are on Channel 24 too.
The Old Man and the Gun
What it’s about
Forrest Tucker is a career bank robber who has spent most of his adult life in and out of prison – usually out, thanks to his uncanny ability to escape even the most notoriously impenetrable prisons – but when he falls for a woman named Jewel, his life of crime comes to a head. Can he stop doing the one thing he’s truly good at and can he do so before he is brought down by a persistent young cop who’s obsessed with his case? Based on a true story.
What we thought
The Old Man & the Gun has been reported to be Robert Redford’s final film and, though there might be something ironic about finishing such a momentous film career with so small and unassuming a swansong, it actually turned out to be a fairly fitting farewell. It is undoubtedly a very slow, very serene and ultimately not massively memorable film but its central theme of leaving behind something to which you devoted your whole life, something for which you have a real knack for and something that exists well beyond the parameters of a conventional nine-to-five job, undoubtedly echoes Redford’s decision to retire from, if not filmmaking, then at least acting.
The ampersand in the title is no doubt a very intentional choice because this film is pointedly not about an “old man and his gun” but about an “old man & his gun”; a collaboration that is so intimate and so inextricably linked that it can’t be signified by something as divisive as an “and”. Ironically enough, though, it seems most likely that our anti-hero frank (Redford, obviously) and his gang of gentlemen criminals (Danny Glover and a scene-stealing Tom Waits) never actually fired a single shot in their entire career as their method of robbing banks to be as effective as it is genteel and, yes, gentleman like. Nonetheless, the title still signifies a life of crime that is less a vocation than a calling – exactly the sort of lifelong career that a life in film has been for Robert Redford himself.
Written and directed by acclaimed and sometimes experimental filmmaker, David Lowery (Ghost Story, Ain’t Them Bodies Saints), the Old Man and the Gun is far more about exploring the mindset of someone like Forrest Tucker – and, despite their obviously hugely different career paths, that of his leading man – than it is in being anything resembling a conventional heist film. Think Hell or Highwater rather than Ocean’s 8, though with still far less action and a more wryly bemused and melancholy emotional palette than the emotional gut-punch and sardonic humour of Taylor Sheridan’s masterpiece.
That sense of gentleness, quiet melancholia and understated humour is both a large part of why the film is a pleasure to watch (as long as you’re neither tired nor looking for much in the way of excitement) and why, in the end, it just doesn’t make a particularly indelible impression. I had all but entirely forgotten about the Old Man & the Gun in the weeks since I saw it but, sitting down to write about it now, I’m reminded of its many charms.
I’m reminded of the wonderful performances from a decidedly experienced cast; the easy likeability of all the characters, the breezily cool of the bank robberies themselves, and, most of all, how effectively, subtly and unpretentiously it deals with the themes it brings up. Bringing it back to Robert Redford, one of the film’s greatest pleasures and why it is such a fitting goodbye on more than just a thematic level is the way it uses Redford’s own past films, in the form of both still photos and video, to recreate Forrest’s own past. It’s probably not an intentional summation of Redford’s career – this is the work, after all, of a filmmaker with very much his own vision and his own story to tell – but it becomes exactly that. And, by the simple fact that it is such a small, indie-spirited film is a reminder of yet another aspect of Redford’s incredible contributions to film – and this is easily one of his most incredible – the Sundance Film Festival, which for decades has been the home and saviour of exactly these kinds of films.
Whether or not this is the last we see of Redford in front of the cameras (and as he himself said, never say never), the Old Man & the Gun is an unexceptional but highly enjoyable, if sleepy, little film on its own terms but is elevated to a must-see for fans of a guy who has been an exceptional force for good in cinema over the past half-century (plus).
The Mule
What it’s about
Loosely based on a true story, Earl Stone is a ninety-year-old former travelling salesman, whose freewheeling life has left him alienated from his family and with barely a penny to his name. Earl finds a new lease on life, however, when he takes up an offer to transport drugs for a Mexican drug cartel but even as the money pours in and he starts to reconnect with his estranged family, both the capricious leader of the cartel and a tenacious DEA agent named Colin Bates start closing in on his seemingly perfect scheme.
What we thought
Clint Eastwood is no stranger to making films about old men trying to come to terms with their past actions and two of his very best film, as both an actor and director, have been about exactly that. Unforgiven and Gran Torino are wildly different from one another in most respects but they are both ultimately meditations on age, legacy and regret and they both cast a long shadow over Eastwood’s latest effort, the Mule.
This story, based on a New York Times article about Earl Stone, a retired travelling salesman who becomes a drug mule for one of the most ruthless drug cartels in Central America, is undeniably pretty astonishing in a way that only stranger-than-fiction true stories can be but even armed with such undeniably compelling source material, Eastwood struggles to elevate the Mule beyond the decidedly ordinary. It’s diverting enough and Eastwood and Bradley Cooper make for an engaging pair on opposite sides of the law but even with a strong supporting cast and Eastwood’s typically understated but effective direction on hand, the Mule is neither as fun or as intriguing as its killer premise suggests.
The film is basically a fairly straightforward mix of family-drama and crime-thriller but it underwhelms as either. As a family drama, it is blandly predictable with its stock family archetypes and obvious life lessons, belying the fact that this a story about real people rather than lazily drawn fictional creations. As a crime-thriller, it adds up to nothing more than a collection of very familiar drug-cartel clichés standing in for anything even remotely approaching a memorable narrative. Both sides of the story are buoyed by some A-list acting talent but it’s pretty humdrum stuff, played out over a much too long two-hour running time that is made worse by the fact that, from Earl’s very first “delivery”, you’re left waiting for the inevitable other shoe to drop.
Things also aren’t helped by either Eastwood’s steady-handed direction or Nick Schenk’s solid script because though such understated filmmaking would work well if the film had more depth and nuance than it does but something this straightforward needs to work as a piece of entertainment and most of the film is just a bit too leaden to do so. It’s hard to tell what becomes tiresome quicker: the endless parade of scenes of Earl struggling to reconnect with his family or the equally ceaseless run-ins with the cartel, but the film is desperately in need of more and better crackling, funny dialogue and/ or some pizazz in its presentation.
All that said, though, the film still manages to get at least a lukewarm recommendation from me, thanks to its two lead actors. Bradley Cooper’s star has been on the rise in recent years (which, of course, makes his role in a Star is Born all the more ironic) and he brings plenty of charm and easy-going likability to his role of Colin Bates, the DEA agent hot on the heels of Earl and the Mexican drug cartel for whom Earl works. On paper, there’s not much there to his character but Cooper injects real vitality into the part.
Most importantly, though, Clint Eastwood may be nearing ninety but he remains an astonishingly magnetic screen presence. Earl is the only character in the whole film written with any depth or complexity (which is just as well as it’s his story) and a gruff but wryly funny Eastwood makes him a character that’s surprisingly easy to root for, no matter how much of an ass he is. If only the film around him was anywhere as endearing, as interesting or as strangely alive as Eastwood’s Earl Stone. As it is, it’s just about passable but with a sharper script and less staid direction, the Mule may well have been something worthwhile; something more than a footnote in the long and varied oeuvre of one of Hollywood’s most celebrated actor/ directors.
Both reviews are on Channel 24 too.
What it’s about
Forrest Tucker is a career bank robber who has spent most of his adult life in and out of prison – usually out, thanks to his uncanny ability to escape even the most notoriously impenetrable prisons – but when he falls for a woman named Jewel, his life of crime comes to a head. Can he stop doing the one thing he’s truly good at and can he do so before he is brought down by a persistent young cop who’s obsessed with his case? Based on a true story.
What we thought
The Old Man & the Gun has been reported to be Robert Redford’s final film and, though there might be something ironic about finishing such a momentous film career with so small and unassuming a swansong, it actually turned out to be a fairly fitting farewell. It is undoubtedly a very slow, very serene and ultimately not massively memorable film but its central theme of leaving behind something to which you devoted your whole life, something for which you have a real knack for and something that exists well beyond the parameters of a conventional nine-to-five job, undoubtedly echoes Redford’s decision to retire from, if not filmmaking, then at least acting.
The ampersand in the title is no doubt a very intentional choice because this film is pointedly not about an “old man and his gun” but about an “old man & his gun”; a collaboration that is so intimate and so inextricably linked that it can’t be signified by something as divisive as an “and”. Ironically enough, though, it seems most likely that our anti-hero frank (Redford, obviously) and his gang of gentlemen criminals (Danny Glover and a scene-stealing Tom Waits) never actually fired a single shot in their entire career as their method of robbing banks to be as effective as it is genteel and, yes, gentleman like. Nonetheless, the title still signifies a life of crime that is less a vocation than a calling – exactly the sort of lifelong career that a life in film has been for Robert Redford himself.
Written and directed by acclaimed and sometimes experimental filmmaker, David Lowery (Ghost Story, Ain’t Them Bodies Saints), the Old Man and the Gun is far more about exploring the mindset of someone like Forrest Tucker – and, despite their obviously hugely different career paths, that of his leading man – than it is in being anything resembling a conventional heist film. Think Hell or Highwater rather than Ocean’s 8, though with still far less action and a more wryly bemused and melancholy emotional palette than the emotional gut-punch and sardonic humour of Taylor Sheridan’s masterpiece.
That sense of gentleness, quiet melancholia and understated humour is both a large part of why the film is a pleasure to watch (as long as you’re neither tired nor looking for much in the way of excitement) and why, in the end, it just doesn’t make a particularly indelible impression. I had all but entirely forgotten about the Old Man & the Gun in the weeks since I saw it but, sitting down to write about it now, I’m reminded of its many charms.
I’m reminded of the wonderful performances from a decidedly experienced cast; the easy likeability of all the characters, the breezily cool of the bank robberies themselves, and, most of all, how effectively, subtly and unpretentiously it deals with the themes it brings up. Bringing it back to Robert Redford, one of the film’s greatest pleasures and why it is such a fitting goodbye on more than just a thematic level is the way it uses Redford’s own past films, in the form of both still photos and video, to recreate Forrest’s own past. It’s probably not an intentional summation of Redford’s career – this is the work, after all, of a filmmaker with very much his own vision and his own story to tell – but it becomes exactly that. And, by the simple fact that it is such a small, indie-spirited film is a reminder of yet another aspect of Redford’s incredible contributions to film – and this is easily one of his most incredible – the Sundance Film Festival, which for decades has been the home and saviour of exactly these kinds of films.
Whether or not this is the last we see of Redford in front of the cameras (and as he himself said, never say never), the Old Man & the Gun is an unexceptional but highly enjoyable, if sleepy, little film on its own terms but is elevated to a must-see for fans of a guy who has been an exceptional force for good in cinema over the past half-century (plus).
What it’s about
Loosely based on a true story, Earl Stone is a ninety-year-old former travelling salesman, whose freewheeling life has left him alienated from his family and with barely a penny to his name. Earl finds a new lease on life, however, when he takes up an offer to transport drugs for a Mexican drug cartel but even as the money pours in and he starts to reconnect with his estranged family, both the capricious leader of the cartel and a tenacious DEA agent named Colin Bates start closing in on his seemingly perfect scheme.
What we thought
Clint Eastwood is no stranger to making films about old men trying to come to terms with their past actions and two of his very best film, as both an actor and director, have been about exactly that. Unforgiven and Gran Torino are wildly different from one another in most respects but they are both ultimately meditations on age, legacy and regret and they both cast a long shadow over Eastwood’s latest effort, the Mule.
This story, based on a New York Times article about Earl Stone, a retired travelling salesman who becomes a drug mule for one of the most ruthless drug cartels in Central America, is undeniably pretty astonishing in a way that only stranger-than-fiction true stories can be but even armed with such undeniably compelling source material, Eastwood struggles to elevate the Mule beyond the decidedly ordinary. It’s diverting enough and Eastwood and Bradley Cooper make for an engaging pair on opposite sides of the law but even with a strong supporting cast and Eastwood’s typically understated but effective direction on hand, the Mule is neither as fun or as intriguing as its killer premise suggests.
The film is basically a fairly straightforward mix of family-drama and crime-thriller but it underwhelms as either. As a family drama, it is blandly predictable with its stock family archetypes and obvious life lessons, belying the fact that this a story about real people rather than lazily drawn fictional creations. As a crime-thriller, it adds up to nothing more than a collection of very familiar drug-cartel clichés standing in for anything even remotely approaching a memorable narrative. Both sides of the story are buoyed by some A-list acting talent but it’s pretty humdrum stuff, played out over a much too long two-hour running time that is made worse by the fact that, from Earl’s very first “delivery”, you’re left waiting for the inevitable other shoe to drop.
Things also aren’t helped by either Eastwood’s steady-handed direction or Nick Schenk’s solid script because though such understated filmmaking would work well if the film had more depth and nuance than it does but something this straightforward needs to work as a piece of entertainment and most of the film is just a bit too leaden to do so. It’s hard to tell what becomes tiresome quicker: the endless parade of scenes of Earl struggling to reconnect with his family or the equally ceaseless run-ins with the cartel, but the film is desperately in need of more and better crackling, funny dialogue and/ or some pizazz in its presentation.
All that said, though, the film still manages to get at least a lukewarm recommendation from me, thanks to its two lead actors. Bradley Cooper’s star has been on the rise in recent years (which, of course, makes his role in a Star is Born all the more ironic) and he brings plenty of charm and easy-going likability to his role of Colin Bates, the DEA agent hot on the heels of Earl and the Mexican drug cartel for whom Earl works. On paper, there’s not much there to his character but Cooper injects real vitality into the part.
Most importantly, though, Clint Eastwood may be nearing ninety but he remains an astonishingly magnetic screen presence. Earl is the only character in the whole film written with any depth or complexity (which is just as well as it’s his story) and a gruff but wryly funny Eastwood makes him a character that’s surprisingly easy to root for, no matter how much of an ass he is. If only the film around him was anywhere as endearing, as interesting or as strangely alive as Eastwood’s Earl Stone. As it is, it’s just about passable but with a sharper script and less staid direction, the Mule may well have been something worthwhile; something more than a footnote in the long and varied oeuvre of one of Hollywood’s most celebrated actor/ directors.
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