Clint Eastwood truly is the daddy of the big screen. He commands such on screen presence it’s impossible to not be enamoured by any one of his roles. I’ve been meaning to catch up with this title for years. Having won about 200 oscars, I was convinced of its credentials.
Focusing on the spiral ascension of the female boxer, daddy Clint takes her on as his student and, haunted by a number of personal demons, fights to ensure both the dreams of his student and the restraint of his fears are met without the sacrifice of either.
Holy christ does the film take a turn and makes my recent shoulder operation seem like a carpet burn in comparison to what we’re put through. A depressing insight into how a dream, on the eve of achievement, is suddenly killed and replaced with a nightmare life that none can imagine.
Eastwood is truly a powerhouse and the fact that he wrote, directed and starred is a true statement of skill and merit. Gran Torino, rumoured to be his last outing, should be pretty damn kickin’ rad.
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