In this blog post, I want to discuss the film Gran Torino, directed by and starring Clint Eastwood. This film depicts the journey of Walt, a retired war veteran, as he undergoes an inner transformation through conflict and reconciliation with his neighbors.
Clint Eastwood’s film ‘Gran Torino’ possesses a structure that begins with death and concludes with death. The film is, as it appears, a film about death. Amidst the countless deaths depicted in the film, director Clint Eastwood chose a somewhat unremarkable narrative. In fact, this film is also one that offers nothing entirely new. Compared to other works dealing with death, it’s hard to find anything particularly striking. Yet, how can we explain this lingering, not-unpleasant unease that remains after watching ‘Gran Torino’?
The film’s overall narrative is so simple it could be summarized in just a few lines. It’s about an elderly man facing death who helps a young man living next door and then dies heroically (?). This is a classic supporting role often seen in films. Characters who sacrifice themselves to help others can be traced back to ancient times. For instance, Simcheong from the Korean classic ‘The Tale of Simcheong’ is precisely such a figure. So what did the director add to this unoriginal narrative? I want to start by talking about the characters.
The protagonist, Walt Kowalski, is a retired veteran with a record of serving in the Korean War during his youth, and an elderly man who worked at a Ford automobile factory before retiring. From his wife’s funeral onwards, he consistently observes those around him with a critical, reproachful gaze. From the grandchildren who show no respect at the funeral, to the young priest speaking about life and death, to the Hmong neighbors gathering to celebrate a birth. The only one he truly opens up to is his dog, Daisy. His personality is also anything but easygoing. He even spits in the face of his granddaughter when she asks about the inheritance he’ll leave behind after his death. His two sons say Walt Kowalski is still living in the 1950s. Two representative examples of this are his 1972 Gran Torino and his M-1 rifle. He keeps his Gran Torino in the garage and always drives a new car. And he lives with his M-1 rifle within easy reach at all times. As his sons say, Walt Kowalski is a man who lives without changing the past. In that sense, the protagonist Walt Kowalski can rightly be called a conservative.
Walt Kowalski is a man who lives by his convictions. At first, the only being he has a proper conversation with is his dog, Daisy. The people who come to his funeral, his so-called acquaintances, are all disliked by him. He doesn’t even tell his two sons about his illness. He is utterly isolated. This is evident from the neighborhood he lives in: an area predominantly populated by Hmong immigrants from Vietnam, where Walt Kowalski, an American, lives alone without family. Tao, who acts like a little girl, intrudes into his life. At first, Walt Kowalski harshly criticizes Tao for his effeminate appearance, but later changes his mind after seeing Tao help his grandmother. This shift can likely be explained by Walt Kowalski’s participation in the Korean War.
Hmong gangs frequently appear in the area where the Hmong live. Yet none of the Hmong report it to the police. Even later, when bullets rain down on Tao’s house and Su is kidnapped and raped, no one stops them. This is incomprehensible even to Walt Kowalski, a complete outsider. The young priest who promised to save Walt Kowalski from life and death also takes no action. Instead, they mobilize the police to stop Walt Kowalski’s actions. This scene resembles the Korean War or the Vietnam War, conflicts in which the United States participated. While complex political interests may have been at play on a national level, the mindset of the soldiers who fought directly mirrors Walt Kowalski’s perspective on the Hmong people. His willingness to risk his life to protect others based on his convictions evokes memories of Walt Kowalski’s past involvement in the Korean War.
The town where Walt Kowalski lives, the film’s setting, represents the Korean Peninsula as seen through the eyes of an American conservative and is a microcosm of Vietnam. The Hmong people living there lack the power to protect themselves. Kowalski, who once stained his hands with blood in past wars, steps forward to protect the Hmong in their place. His purpose is not to punish or exact vengeance, as seen in the Rambo series or current superhero movies, but to rescue Tao and Soo from their hands, and ultimately to save the entire Hmong community. This is achieved through Walt Kowalski’s own death. His act of self-sacrifice to save them reaches its climax when the final image of Walt Kowalski, struck down by the Hmong gang’s gunfire, overlaps with the image of the crucifixion.
In fact, this film contains elements that could make non-Americans feel uncomfortable. From the film’s opening, the constant presence of the American flag, the drumbeat reminiscent of a march that plays whenever Walt Kowalski confronts enemies with his M-1 rifle, and even the casual portrayal of Asians as uncivilized all appear. The flag-related elements can be understood when considering Walt Kowalski’s characterization as an American conservative. For those uncomfortable with America’s role as a leader in the global peace order, this film might appear merely as a vehicle to whitewash American actions. However, the story it contains about life and death demands attention to how an elderly man facing death chooses to conclude his life.
From the outset, the film continually presents opposing elements: Walt Kowalski, a relic of the past, versus the new generation of kids; a house in mourning versus one celebrating a birth; English speakers versus Vietnamese speakers. Later, it even contrasts the nursing home with staying where he lives now. Director Clint Eastwood sharply delineates Walt Kowalski’s predicament by persistently juxtaposing these contrasts. And Walt Kowalski is placed at a crossroads of choice. Should he hold onto his outdated beliefs, or choose to reach out to the children? When Tao came to borrow jumper cables, and even in the scene where he locked eyes with the Hmong grandmother despite the language barrier, Walt Kowalski did not abandon his convictions. Yet this wasn’t purely a beta stance. When Walt Kowalski visits the Hmong family with Su, he makes an effort to respect their traditions. There, he awkwardly smiles while fixing a tilted washing machine.
Ultimately, Walt Kowalski transforms into someone who accepts the Hmong family’s gratitude. This contrasts sharply with his earlier act of pointing an M-1 rifle at someone for stepping on his lawn. This contrast makes the scene where Walt Kowalski rages after Su is raped by the Hmong gang hit even harder. Only after smashing shelves and punching through glass does he finally calm down. Having always acted first, using greater violence against violence, Walt Kowalski now stands at a crossroads. Facing death, he must choose his path. Instead of the M-1 rifle, he takes a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. At this moment when he could choose his own death, he walks toward a better kind of death.
If I had to pick the most beautiful scene in Clint Eastwood’s Gran Torino, I would choose the ending. The view seen as the ending credits roll, with Tao’s Gran Torino passing over a bridge in a quiet rural landscape. The camera lingers on the river, shimmering with reflected light, and the cars heading somewhere. This scene dissolves all the tension from before, offering a sense of languid peace. In the end, perhaps what the gruff old man Walt Kowalski truly wanted to protect wasn’t a better life for himself, but these peaceful days. It doesn’t matter that he’s a conservative who prefers Fords over Toyotas and flies the American flag year-round. Walt Kowalski is undeniably a character imbued with a noble spirit, one who would choose death for others. After the film ends, audiences will occasionally remember him. Walt Kowalski, frowning as he stands before the Gran Torino, M-1 rifle in hand.
