Clint Eastwood in his latest film "The Mule" feels like a followup to 2008's "Gran Torino," had that film only ended differently. Both movies play like "Where is Dirty Harry Now" pictures, with Eastwood snarling at the camera, sarcastically swearing at the wrong people, with just a touch of callous but passive racism. In this latest adventure, he plays Earl Stone, a veteran (of course!) and glorified florist, who always put his work before his family. Must be a pretty boring family to put such a focus on flowers.
Starting with a flashback of him in his garden glory days, the movie quickly cuts to him today, his place foreclosed. Packing up his old beat-up Ford pickup, he heads to his granddaughter's pre-wedding party, only to be thrown out by his ex-wife Mary (Dianne Wiest) and his daughter Iris (Alison Eastwood), not before one of the guests catches wind that ol' Earl is in need of cash (to help pay for the wedding). The man promises all that he'll need to do is drive from one place to the next, something Earl seems all too happy to do in his decrepit truck. Turns out, he'll be transporting drugs into Illinois. Good thing we learn he's never gotten a driving ticket. Must be why all old people seem to drive so slow.
At the same time, DEA Agent Bates (Bradley Cooper) is brought over from New York to help curb their city's increasing drug use. Bates spends his time getting information about a new drug mule from flamboyant cartel worker Luis (Eugene Cordero), who's introduced getting a manicure (no doubt putting the man in the name). Of course, this new drug driver is 90-year-old Mr. Stone, and the rest of the film happens naturally and casually. Unfortunately Cooper gives a thankless performance, failed by the screenplay (and possibly the director), one that gives him little to do except look pretty and brush off the several times he crosses paths with Eastwood's Earl character.
The story is predictable, hitting all the major beats you'd expect from a film of this genre (cue character who coughs, but reassures our lead that "it's nothing." Don't be stupid, secondary character, you and I both know it's something). But we all came here for Eastwood, a man who's face has been beaten up and chewed out by time (and no doubt all the tiny cigars he chewed, back in the sixties when he didn't have a name), but is no less enduring than ever.
"The Mule" is a tale only interesting because it's real, or at least inspired by one, and the movie is only worth watching for Eastwood; you'd better believe there would be a whole star missing from that score above had a less prolific aging action actor played the role of Earl Stone. It is terrific to see Mr. Director back to doing what he does best, well, aside from action that is (Eastwood is at least not pulling a Charles Bronson here), relying purely on the dialogue, and delivery, to give the audience what they want. The discourse between him and his suppliers are a particular highlight, where minorly racist and ageist quips are tossed back and forth, with smiles on the faces of both sides. I don't have to agree with it, but I liked what I saw on screen today.
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