Year Released: 2021
Directed by: Clint Eastwood
Starring: Clint Eastwood, Eduardo Minett, Natalia Traven
PG-13, 121 min.)
Genre: Clint Eastwood, Eduardo Minett, Natalia Traven

“You owe me, Mike. You gave me your word. That used to mean something.” –Howard Polk

One of the few new films worth watching, Clint Eastwood’s Cry Macho manages to distill his 60 year career into its essence. It is a vintage aged is oak – in this case Texas live oaks – dusty plains, wild horses, and at least one wild woman. And did I mention one pretty frisky fighting cock. A rooster named Macho.

Eastwood seems quite comfortable yielding some crucial scenes to his feathered friend, as he does as well to the young rebel he reluctantly takes under his wings – Eastwood’s I mean, not the rooster’s. In fact, the fighting cock actually belongs to the young rebel Rafa (Eduardo Minett) who is as unhappy to see Eastwood’s Mike Milo as Milo, the guy there rescue him, is.

But Mike Milo owes this rescue mission to his boss, who has put a roof over the his head for the years since the former rodeo star ended his career with a broken back and a broken heart not eased by the whisky and pills that have been his steady diet since. Rafa is boss Howard Polk’s (Dwight Yoakam) 13-year-old son. He has not seen since the boy since he was a toddler.

However, Polk takes an interest now, since it seems the boy is being abused by his alcoholic mother living in Mexico City. And living very well, too In a huge mansion Hollywood usually reserves for drug cartel bosses. Even Eastwood’s Milo is impressed when he gets there. And for an instant, at least, he even doubts his mission to rescue the boy.

“Why the hell would a kid ever want to leave this place?” Milo asks himself semi aloud in that trademark throaty whisper.

What follows is one long and languorous road trip. Not Eastwood’s usual urgent gallop across plains with thundering hooves, even if the trek is desperate at times. Horses are replaced by old clunkers that break down along the way. Or they’re stolen while the old cowboy has a sudden attack of Montezuma’s revenge along the roadside.

All this sly humor is Eastwood coyly commenting on his career as one bad dude, whether he played the man with no name escaping hanging or his Dirty Harry cop begging the bad boys to “make my day.”

Now he is driving a stolen clunker and tortured by his guts rather than flying bullets.

***

While young buck directors are content to churn out an alphabet soup of endless sequels, prequels, and remakes, this Hollywood veteran seems one of the few still taking risks. Ninety-one year old Clint Eastwood, behind the camera and in front of it, still has those creative juices flowing.

And only someone as confident as Clint would throw in a seduction scene where the nonagenarian rejects the bedroom eyes of one very voluptuous lady. And then he goes on to a real romance a little later on.

Along the way, Eastwood tangles playfully with religion and faith with the same light touch he did in Gran Torino. This time is it not a red haired young padre he is up against, but the Virgin Mary herself, or at least a shrine to her. Out of luck, and needing a place to rest, Mike and Rafa take refuge where they can from the thugs Rafa’s mother has sent after them.

The first thing Eastwood does in the shrine is settle down on a bench to take a nap, much to the chagrin of Rafa, who may be a illegal cock fighter and sometime car thief, but nonetheless, a child of religious scruples. He kneels and makes the sign of the cross for this sacrilege, but Eastwood is well into his nap by then.

Quite a bit of the dialogue involves the rooster named Macho, though Mike is not too friendly at first, to the rooster or his owner, Rafa.

Rafa: Macho. His name is Macho
Mike Milo: Whatever
Rafa: What’s wrong with that?
Mike Milo: Nothing. Guy wants to name his cock “Macho,” it’s okay by me.

Rafa: If Macho sits (in the front seat) with us, when he fights, I’ll give you half the money.
Mike Milo: The day Macho sits up here is the day I barbecue his ass.

Later on, Eastwood is more serious and reflective. Ostensibly his Mike Milo is talking about his past rodeo career, but it also seems to be Eastwood’s reflection on his film career as well.

This macho thing is overrated. Works perfect for him (the rooster), but it’s overrated. Just people trying to be macho to show that they’ve got grit. That’s about all they end up with. And you sit there and let a bull step all over you, and you let a horse throw you 50 feet in the air. What an idiot. Only an idiot would be in a profession like that. It’s like anything else in life. You think you got all the answers; then you realize, as you get old, that you don’t have any of them. By the time you figure it out, it’s too late.

***

But is it really too late for our old cowboy? Marta (Natalia Traven), who runs a small café in the town where he takes refuge, doesn’t think so. And the horse trader who has trouble selling his unbroken steeds doesn’t see the old rodeo star as failed when he proceeds to gentle break them, all the while teaching Rafa how to do it as well.

And what about the townspeople who start bringing their pets and livestock to him once they see his gentle skill treating a wounded horse? The only thing he cannot cure is one dog whose only disease is his age.

“How do you cure old age?” Mike quips to Rafa. Well maybe there is something…

“He needs some rest,” Mike tells his owner. “And let him sleep at the bottom of the bed. That will help, too.”

Could that formula work for old, broken down cowboys as well? You’ll have to see the film to find out, won’t you?

Not to miss. This sweet Eastwood film is a fitting epilogue to his storied career. But Different Drummer hopes it is not his final effort. Someone has to show Hollywood how to get its mojo back, even if it is a 91-year-old who does so by kind of rejecting it.

Kathy Borich
🥁🥁🥁🥁

Trailer

Film-Loving Foodie

We never know what chance encounters may bring. That is especially true for Mike Milo (Clint Eastwood) and his temporary charge Raf (Eduardo Minett) when they stop for some coffee and breakfast at a small town café. Marta (Natalia Traven), who owns it, is also the chief cook and bottle washer and has what that warmth and empathy some of us remember from small town waitresses.

Certainly the opposite of our waitress from Hell or High Water, whatever heart of gold lurked beneath her demeanor.

Marta senses something about this pair, worn out and weary, but watchful, too. Maybe that’s why she puts the “Cerrado” or closed sign up on the door, and why she closes the shades as well while they eat.

Before long she is bringing them meals on the QT as they hole up in a shrine to the Virgin Mary. Her unconditional care and comfort is what Mike gives to animals, and under her influence, he also begins to show that same concern for the humans who surround him, too.

Marta even teaches the old Texas rodeo star how to make tortillas, one of the sweeter moments in the film.

Now you can make them, too. Something about immersing your hands in in the dough, rolling it into balls, is inherently comforting. And then there is the magic of the metal tortilla press, and voilà, a delicate tortilla is born.

Try this magic, too. And remember, playing with your food isn’t just for children.

Homemade Flour Tortillas

Ingredients

· 2 Cups all purpose flour

· 3 Tablespoons cold grated salted butter

· 1 Tablespoon rendered strained bacon cold bacon fat

· 1/4 teaspoon sea salt

· 3/4 to 1 cup warm water

Instructions

1. In a large mixing bowl, add the flour, salt and fat. If you don't have rendered strained bacon fat, you can just use 4 tablespoons of butter.

2. Cut all the ingredients together with a fork or pastry cutter until it looks crumbly.

3. Add about half the water and stir together.

4. Keep adding water a little at a time until the flour is hydrated & begins to look shaggy.

5. Begin to knead the dough in the bowl making sure to gather all the bits.

6. Remove the dough and keep kneading until the dough looks smooth and stretchy.

7. It should feel pliable, soft, and easily tear away.

8. Divide the dough (preferably with a digital kitchen scale ) into 40 gram pieces and roll into balls. Or just try to divide the dough as equally as possible into golf ball sized portions

9. Cover and let rest 10 minutes

10. Preheat a well oiled griddle or comal to medium low heat (you want your griddle or pan really hot in order to cook the tortillas) while the dough is resting and you press the tortillas.

11. After the dough has rested take a dough ball and open your tortilla press.

12. Place the dough ball slightly off center between a large cut zipper storage bag. (with the zipper top section cut off and the sides cut so that the bottom is still attached and can be folded over on itself.) You can also use two pieces of regular plastic wrap or parchment paper.

13. Close the press and press the handle down firmly

14. Open the press and peel the tortilla off placing it on a piece of parchment paper.

15. Continue until all the dough is used up.

16. Place a tortilla on the grill by flipping it over with the paper attached and upwards.

17. Press down with a spatula until the dough cooks a little and you're able to carefully peel the parchment paper off

18. Cook about a minute then check the bottom of the tortilla to see if you have those lovely brown marks.

19. The tortilla is usually ready to flip when it puffs up also.

20. Cook about another minute on the other side then transfer to a clean towel or basket tortilla warmer to keep warm.

The Kitchen Prescription.com

Here is a video showing a different method that you might find helpful, although I don’t think it captures Marta’s more intuitive methods. No way can I see her weighing each tortilla ball, but watch it anyway, if you like. Marta seems to be a cook like my Italian mother. It’s the feel of things, not the precise measurements that matter. The same with life, too, don’t you think?