Cry Macho begins on a puzzling note. An old rodeo hero (Clint Eastwood) far past his prime arrives to his job late and is chewed out by his boss (Dwight Yoakum), who promptly fires him. This scene is longwinded, awkward, and filled with exposition. Then, we see a newspaper clipping of Clint riding broncs in his glory days that miraculously comes to life and becomes old newsreel footage. But never mind that, because here comes another scene that takes place one year later (later than the first scene and not the scene with the newspaper) where Yoakum breaks into Clint’s house and offers him money to go down to Mexico and kidnap his long-lost son (Eduardo Minett).
Which begs the question: Why did we need the opening scene of Clint being chewed out by his boss in the first place? Why couldn’t we just cut right to the scene where he hires him to go to Mexico? Couldn’t they just add some extra dialogue bits if they wanted to make it clear he fired Clint the year before? Then again, the last thing this movie needs is more exposition. I mean the first fifteen minutes is nothing more than Clint listening to other people describe the plot. Shouldn’t Clint the director be SHOWING us all this and not telling us? The film was based on a book unread by me, but in a book, you can get away with pages and pages where characters tell other characters about stuff that happened a long time ago that is pertinent to the plot. It’s a little different in a movie.
Things improve slightly once Clint and the kid hit the road, but not much. It’s still a little patchy, but at least there’s more connective tissue in between scenes than there was in the early going. That still doesn’t excuse the odd fade-outs that wind up fading back into the same scene.
Look, nobody does it (or more accurately, did it) better than Clint. He is still one of my all-time heroes. I don’t want to sound ageist or anything, but man, I think he should’ve hung it up with The Mule. That was a great flick with Clint playing an age-appropriate role. Here, we’re asked to believe the ninety-one-year-old Clint is maybe in his… sixties (?) and it still seems like a stretch. The all-too obvious way the camera tries to hide Clint’s gaunt figure in silhouette, from behind, and from afar just compounds the fact.
I’ve believed a lot of shit in movies over the years. Believing a ninety-one-year-old man can punch out a guy three times younger than him is a bit much. Or seeing him (or more accurately, his stunt double) riding a bucking bronco. One thing I did believe that happened during the movie: Clint getting Montezuma’s Revenge from drinking Mexican water.
Then there are the random ass scenes that are supposed to pass for character development. Like in the middle of one of the film’s many driving scenes, Clint suddenly blurts out, “You’re kind of growing on me, kid!” Again, he’s telling us, and not showing us how they’re bonding as the compliment is completely unearned. When you get to be ninety-one, I guess telling us is about all you can do.
At its heart, Cry Macho is a road movie. After the awkward set-up, the film gets better once Clint and the kid head out on the road, and they slowly begin to appreciate each other’s company. (It’s kind of a thematic retread of Gran Torino.) I guess they were going for an offbeat feel because the kid only agrees to go with him as long as he can bring his pet rooster, a fighting cock named Macho, along for the ride. Eventually, the crusty Clint learns to accept Macho too.
Reportedly, Clint only shot six hours a day, and often using the first take. That might explain why some of the early scenes feels closer to Ed Wood than Clint Eastwood. However, as the film goes along, you can sort of see what he was going for if you squint hard enough. Since Clint is a master at squinting, that probably explains why it made sense to him and not the audience.
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