Episode 12 - Dirty Harry

Ed & Vivi went and asked themselves one question: 'Do you feel lucky?' Well, do ya, punk?

Episode 12 – Published on Apr 4 

Written by Ed Mac

Spiel  

When you think of the icons of world cinema, who comes to mind? Is it the droopy eyed romanticism of Humphrey Bogart, or the fiery determination of Katherine Hepburn? Perhaps it’s the wicked mischievousness of Jack Nicholson? And who could ignore the bombshell vitality of Marilyn Monroe. These, and many others, are the truly great, genuinely historic icons of cinema. Performers that transcend mere human existence and become larger than life. The simple mention of their names bypasses descriptions of personality and technique, instead evoking feelings, emotions, and states of mind. Comfortably seated amongst this exalted company is a name that is code for cool, macho, gunslinger, hot dog eating, crime fighting, box office blockbusting general badassery. That name is, of course, Clint Eastwood.

There are dozens of films involving Eastwood, as a star or director or both, that we could have chosen to discuss on Till the Movie Do us part. Indeed, it’s my hope and goal to cover many more of his films. Eastwood’s is a career that has, nor will ever have, equal. He is now recognised as a genuine artist, and has been part of the cultural conversation for over six decades now. There hasn’t been anything left unsaid at this point as to what makes him such an icon. You are either on board with his brand of entertainment, or you are not. But as with most icons, most people are.

It's difficult to say with authority which is Eastwood’s most iconic role, but I think it’s fair to say that it comes down to two roles: The man with no name from the Sergio Leone Spaghetti westerns, and the subject of this episode, Dirty Harry Callahan. Eastwood’s no nonsense Inspector with the most powerful handgun in the world blasted onto cinema screens in 1971, straight out of newspaper headlines, with its Zodiac inspired story involving a psychopathic serial killer terrorising San Francisco. Director Don Siegal applied a lean verisimilitude to his film, a style that fit his leading man like a glove. Eastwood’s cop exudes a take no prisoners, get the job done proficiency that has no time for following the mandated rules of decent society. This is an in your face, take it or leave story of good guys and despicable villains, with very little wiggle room in between.

Apart from the main players such as Siegal and Eastwood, a large part of the credit for the power of this film must go to the young Andy Robinson, who plays the Scorpio killer. This is a performance that has haunted me for decades. It is, simply, one of the scariest screen villains ever committed to film. The character wears a peace symbol on his belt, I assume to give his character some semblance of complexity and backstory, perhaps. However, Robinson’s physicality, his leering face, breathy laugh, screeching voice and ghoulish facial expressions combine to create something far more primal, simple and terrifying: pure evil.

Up against such a nasty piece of work, it is unsurprising that we go along with Harry, even as he edges further and further towards illegality in his methods of pursuing Scorpio. However, if it wasn’t for the magnetism of Eastwood himself, and his natural, iconic ability to draw audiences in with barely more than a slight grimace or cocked eyebrow, the film may well be unwatchable, and certainly not the classic that it is rightly regarded as being today. At the time many reviewers, including of course Eastwood basher-in-chief Pauline Kael, decried the film as Fascist propaganda, with it’s sneering attitude to the rights of criminals. But that’s the gift of Eastwood: even though we know we shouldn’t be cheering him on, we can’t help but do so.

But such as it is with cinematic icons. We watch their faces projected and magnified on enormous screens, we listen to their words that illuminate inalienable truths about human experience but sound ludicrous when we repeat them, and we bear witness as they act out feats of intellect, melodramatic gesture, daring-do and physical pratfalls that continue to enthral us despite the inherent unreality of much of what we see. They make the impossible, possible while both seeming not that different from you or me and being at a remove from normality. They draw us in, making us question ourselves, would we be able to do what they do, if given the chance. At their very best, at their most iconic, the experience of involving ourselves in their adventures becomes an exercise in the conceptual examination of what it means to be alive.

Listen the episode HERE

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