A rewarding, emotively resonant and distinct piece of tough-love.

Rating: Null/10 (27 April 2009)

Life and death are common themes within the realm of film, with each having their respective nuances and larger than life images transported onto the big screen with a frequency that often leads one to forget such basic, but compelling ideas and thoughts. Yet for Gran Torino which takes for itself a slice of life's pie which isn't the most glamorous, nor the most loving of that very essence of life, does not –at least for the most part- neglect to touch upon such themes with a timid sense of grandeur. Indeed, for all its grand statements shrouded in simple characterisation and complex psychological analysis, the real treat for viewers here isn't gained from the intellect, but from the senses and the heart. Gran Torino may tickle the head's curiosity for discussion on life, people, cultural tolerance and our relationships with these people on screen, but in the end it is the heart-felt, emotionally tangible experience itself that is accumulated over its abundant runtime that provides the most rewarding sense of catharsis.
Taking the forefront of this rather heavy-handed tour-de-force of character drama and analysis is war-veteran and all around disgruntled and overbearing Walter Kowalski (Clint Eastwood) who not only feels alienated from a world long gone from his younger years, but also from those closest to him. Having just lost his wife, Walter comes to the bitter realisation that the world as a whole just doesn't seem to have any heart left—no soul, no respect and no values inherent to its core. It saddens Walter perhaps, maybe a little—but it sure as hell pisses him off more. Make no mistake though, this guy isn't a saint; in fact, he would make no qualms with telling one to get off his back and quit with the fairy-act. To make matters worse for old-man Walter however, between the bumbling yuppies and their spoiled kids to the decaying neighbourhood long overrun with Hmong immigrants, Kowalski ends up in the middle of a physical dispute that resides within both a racial and domestic arena. Of course, at first he couldn't care less—"Just get off my lawn!" is his retort to praises of heroism after scaring off a local gang with a war-tested rifle, but it's not long before Walter begins to find solace in life through an unlikely companion.
From here the story of Gran Torino takes a turn to the left and never looks back. While the character of Kowalski never quite lets go of his deep-rooted cynicism and embittered attitude towards those he has to put up with day in day out, the brief rays of sunshine that trickle through the character's arc over the second act pave way to a much more fleshed out and rewarding portrayal. Eastwood, who embodies Kowalski with a mean-spirited refrain typical of his most famous personas to date, establishes a personality that manages to convey a wide and varying sense of emotion; one moment you'll be rattled by Walter's unclenching disdain for untraditional values, and then you'll be laughing and rooting for him the next. Not only is it a compelling and distinct performance cemented by multi-layered and rich writing—but this over-riding sense of dynamism to the story's central character goes on to echo the script's central themes on the nature of life and death itself. Of course, there is plenty of Dirty Harry to mean old-coot vigilante Walter—perhaps too much at times—but it all comes together surpassingly well; emotionally, intellectually and even entertainingly.
If there is one cataclysmic failing of the feature however, it lies in the sometimes overdone and contorted nature of its final act. The conclusion to the entirety of the feature—although apt in its emotional derailing of the viewer thanks to a poignant final five minutes—nevertheless takes too long to reach said destination, and does so without any clear sense of direction. Following on from two absolutely solid acts filled to the brim with unique characterisation, poignant, tangible thematic analysis and of course a sense of heart which is definitely not neglected throughout the entirety of the feature; Gran Torino may not be perfect, but it sure as hell kicks quite a punch despite its slow-moving and unassuming façade. Behind this old dog of a feature lies an assertive sense of conviction and compelling heart—of course, it has its fair share of sour moments here and there too, but thanks to the presence of Eastwood both on and off camera, Torino ends up succeeding as a rewarding, emotively resonant and distinct piece of tough-love in amongst the generic electric-shaver mobiles of modern day cinema.

A review by Jamie Robert Ward (http://www.invocus.net)