Age On A Movie Screen
It’s still brightly hot and sunny here in California. We sit by the fountain in a pocket of shade enjoying the cooling music of the water and idling away lazy minutes. A gentle breeze is blowing and the palm trees shimmer in its flirtatious embrace. There’s a little part of me that knows we should be moving into the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness but then the sun casts his warmth across my face, the dog stretches, basking in the heated glow and I am lost in the haze of an endless summer. Winter is approaching somewhere but that somewhere isn’t here.
Speaking of dogs and their entertainment, impossible schedules have put a stop to our weekly beach trips for the time being. To compensate our beloved, my husband and I took him to a new dog park in Playa Vista at the weekend. It was a charming interlude. The park was a miniature paradise for canines. With both astroturf and gentle slopes it was ideal territory for running and the perfect setting for the social interactions that are part of any good dog park experience. On the plus side for the humans it was clean and safe, as is the whole of Playa Vista in fact, not something you can take for granted in our city of angels nowadays. As we drove away we reflected on the affection and care with which dogs are treated in this country. It’s one of the most positive cultural elements we have experienced.
The general theme of animals and their ability to bring out the best in us if we treat them correctly runs straight through Clint Eastwood’s new film, Cry Macho which we saw on Saturday night. There has been no big push or over excited publicity drive for this one; I spotted a trailer for it on YouTube a couple of months ago and made a note of the release date. When it was approaching I booked tickets and thus we wound up in a sparsely occupied theatre in Century City after a very LA dining experience.
The film is shot through with the kindness, dry wit and unhurried generosity that I’ve come to expect from the movies Clint Eastwood makes these days. It’s the story of a washed up rodeo rider who travels into Mexico from Texas to retrieve his boss’s teenage son from his abusive mother. The film depicts the relationship which develops between the two characters, the people they meet and the experiences they have along the way. The script is great: sharp, laugh out loud funny at times and never over done. Throughout the film you can hear echoes of many of the movies Clint has starred in throughout his illustrious career. I particularly enjoyed the ghosts of High Plains Drifter who seemed to stalk some of the scenes in the middle stretch of the film.
A careless viewer might miss the heart of this deceptively simple movie. Clint is old, really old. We don’t often get to see that on screen. At times the scenes have a rawness to them- as if there hasn’t been too much time spent in the editing suite. We can see the physical frailty; the havoc which old age wreaks upon the body and yet observe simultaneously the toughness of spirit with which one can live one’s life, right up until the end. In a time where youthfulness is pursued with a demonic fervour, the relief which watching such a movie brings can’t be over stated. It’s a simple thing really, Mike Milo the character Clint plays here, is nearing the end of the road. ‘There’s no cure for old’ he growls at one point. He knows it, we know it and yet, as the film progresses and the character opens up, there’s a willingness to put himself on the line for others, to embrace fresh opportunities and new relationships that speaks of a heart that has not given the destructive dessication of age purchase. It’s a truly beautiful movie. Probably the most real thing you’ll see all year. Highly recommended.
A little while later, back by the fountain, the water is still rushing, rippling and eddying. I sit alone now and see the crumpled brown leaves which I hadn’t noticed before lightly dusting the edges of the fountain. Winter’s cold fingers will touch even this little kingdom of sunshine in the end. The lights will linger but will eventually go out before they pick up their flickering and burn bright once again.
