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‘Cry Macho’ Review: Clint Eastwood Gets Back in the Saddle
The Hollywood icon, now 91 years old, directs and stars in the story of a down-on-his-luck rodeo rider bringing a wayward boy back from Mexico to Texas
By Joe Morgenstern Wall Street Journal Sept. 16, 2021 5:26 pm ET
As the director and star of “Cry Macho,” in theaters and on HBO Max, Clint Eastwood sends himself on a picaresque journey through rural Mexico in 1979. He plays Mike Milo, a washed-up rodeo star who accepts a job from his former boss: Go to Mexico City, rescue the man’s supposedly wild-spirited young son from the clutches of his abusive mother, and bring him back to Texas. Milo is a cowboy of many parts—a horseman (it’s great to see Mr. Eastwood back in the saddle at age 91); a horse whisperer; a woman whisperer (more about that in a bit); an adequate conversationalist in sign language; and a grizzled Dr. Dolittle who ministers as best he can to sick animals. Confronted by a terminally decrepit dog, Milo tells its owner, “I don’t know how to cure old.” Yet the film, for all its endearing oddities, suggests that old doesn’t need to be cured, only worked through with as much grace and equanimity as possible.
And as much verve as available. Most of that is supplied not by Mike, who meters out his emotions cautiously, in the usual Eastwood way, but by Marta ( Natalia Traven ), the widowed proprietor of a small-town cantina. She warms Mike’s heart, which has been chilled by grief and adversity, and lights up every moment she’s on screen. (He, in turn, charms one of her grandchildren, who is deaf.) The wayward son, Rafo Polk ( Eduardo Minett ), proves to be tender, rather than wild, his initial hostility notwithstanding. At age 13 he’s a lost soul, just like Mike, and wants nothing more than the love of his estranged father, Howard Polk ( Dwight Yoakam ). Macho is the name of Rafo’s rooster, who could have been a cockfight contender; he squawks every now and then and gets a pivotal peck at the action during the trio’s long and dangerous trip back to the U.S. border.
A movie version of the story, adapted here by Nick Schenk from a novel and earlier screenplay by N. Richard Nash, had been in the works for decades. Candidates for the central role reportedly included Roy Scheider, Burt Lancaster, Pierce Brosnan, Arnold Schwarzenegger and Mr. Eastwood himself, who chose instead to star as Inspector “Dirty” Harry Callahan in the 1988 crime thriller “The Dead Pool.” Now, more than 30 years later, it’s a Clint Eastwood film in a larger sense of the term, shaped by the star to his own style and rhythms.
Clint Eastwood and Eduardo Minett PHOTO: WARNER BROS. ---------------------------------
His direction delights in tropes like a local deputy of dubious integrity scowling at Mike, Rafo and Macho while he ominously touches the brim of his sombrero to the accompaniment of a guitar chord. (That sounds like parody but it’s meant to be atmosphere.) Dialogue is exchanged at a pace that’s comparable to the “60 Minutes” declamations of Scott Pelley ; everyone except Marta, who declares her passions in subtitled Spanish, makes sure they’re being understood by . . . speaking . . . very . . . slowly.
Natalia Traven PHOTO: WARNER BROS. -------------------------------------
Nevertheless, “Cry Macho” may have its way with older moviegoers’ hearts. It’s an earnest discussion of what constitutes macho behavior, with Mr. Eastwood’s character, like others he’s played in the relatively recent past, arguing in favor of kindness and probity over physical force. It’s a slow-release dose of sincere feelings: Mike does, eventually, reveal the pain he’s endured to his troubled young companion, though the scene is shot in half-light with the hero’s face shielded by the brim of his own hat. And before and after everything else, the film is a dream of romance, albeit later in life than its star encountered in “The Bridges Of Madison County.” When Mike and Marta dance a slow, lovely dance, it could be a beginning for them both.
Eduardo Minett PHOTO: WARNER BROS ----------------------- . Write to Joe Morgenstern at joe.morgenstern@wsj.com
