High Plains water level

In my Daily Notebook musings on Clint Eastwood, I tell this (hopefully) amusing anecdote: "...around spring 1981, standing outside Cinema Village, waiting to go into a rep screening ofThe Shining and The Killing ('a very instructive double bill,' one patron commented while exiting) with some friends and listening to a couple of eager cinema beavers discussing Eastwood's directorial career and making a remark about Eastwood only finding his "water level" as a director with The Outlaw Josey Wales or  some such. One of my friends drolly imagined recasting that scene out of Annie Hall with Eastwood, in his Dirty Harry persona, appearing from behind the line and drawing a bead on one of these guys with his Magnum, and saying 'What do you know about my filmmaking...punk?'...Maybe you hadda be there..."

Now it can be told: the droll friend was Joseph Failla, who sometimes chimes in here, and has a few thoughts on Eastwood I'd like to share with you:

Well I was there, and picturing a Clint Eastwood cameo in Annie Hall is still pretty funny to me. The movie in question with regard to "water level" that night was High Plains Drifter: I remember because it wasn't the kind of film that was often referred to when defending Clint's aesthetic credibility at the time. I've been a HPD fan from very early on (Twilight Zone westerns are hard to come by). I think I was sensitive to the remark about Eastwood's "water level" since he was so assured in only his second directorial outing and so much more seemed possible. Play Misty already was a slasher classic in the circles we traveled in, do you remember discussing the scene with the scissors? 

Since you mentioned them, I will bring up his "monkey movies". Perhaps they're not included in the FSLC retrospect simply because directing honors went to James Fargo and Buddy Van Horn, but the first entry Every Which Way But Loose, is still one of the oddest concoctions Eastwood ever wound up starring in. It's hard to say what he was thinking—or more to the point, how he could have known there was an audience for this kind of ridiculous material, as Loose turned out to be one of his biggest hits. Even though it's a pursuit comedy, there's no high speed chase scenes in sight. The plot is laid back to the point of distraction; everything seems to move in slow motion from one episode to the next, yet I still couldn't necessarily figure out where it was headed. Eastwood is likable as easy going trucker and bare knuckle brawler Philo Beddoe, and his routines with Clyde the orangutan are meant to be the film's real scene stealers. But I find his relationship with Sondra Locke's character, a secretive country and western singer, engaging enough to pull me into the film in a different way. From this angle, Loose could be seen as a dry run of sorts for the terrific Bronco Billy, wherein the Eastwood/Locke duo would really bloom amid some fine comic situations. 

As for its actual followup Any Which Way You Can, it's impossible not to recognize this as a lightweight reworking of The Quiet Man. The climatic fight sequence between Philo and a formidable martial artist is staged in much the same manner, with folks from all over, racing to the scene and placing their bets. Otherwise nothing seems as peculiar the second time around, at least the film did give everybody's favorite badass William Smith one of his most memorable roles. For once here is a screen villain who really seems capable of physically intimidating Eastwood.

The thing is, Eastwood's not embarrassed by his involvement in either film, he simply felt they were as right for him as some of his more serious film projects. A trait that doesn't so much give him a pass, as keeps me interested in the diverse choices he makes. 

To which I can only add: as far as Any Which Way You Can is concerned, I give Eastwood extra credit for having the good taste to hire Ray Charles to sing the theme song (in his Modern Sounds in Country & Western Music mode, at that), and for having the cojones to actually sit in with Ray on the vocal chores. Talk about a man transcending his limitations.

Comments

[Tom Russell]

Thanks, Pinback. It was probably my fault for going into it expecting some of the complexity I saw in FLAGS; I'm capable of appreciating simple and strong didacticism-- as a huge booster of superhero comics, how could I not be?-- once I've put myself in the proper mindset. Perhaps I'll give it another shot.

As for BABY-- it worked for me like gangbusters. I know a lot of people take issue with its cartoon depiction of the tacky, trailer-trashtastic family, but that never bothered me, frankly, because many of my blood relatives (including the woman who gave me life) are precisely that over-the-top in their breath-taking ignorance, gauchery, and self-absorption, not to mention a profound knack for denigrating any accomplishment. I completely understood and empathized with her desire to escape such a toxic environment, which might be one reason why I clicked with it so well.

[Terry McCarty]

Perhaps they're not included in the FSLC retrospect simply because directing honors went to James Fargo and Buddy Van Horn, but the first entry Every Which Way But Loose, is still one of the oddest concoctions Eastwood ever wound up starring in. It's hard to say what he was thinking—or more to the point, how he could have known there was an audience for this kind of ridiculous material, as Loose turned out to be one of his biggest hits. Even though it's a pursuit comedy, there's no high speed chase scenes in sight.

Actually, I believe Eastwood made these films after looking at the grosses of the Reynolds/Needham SMOKEY AND THE BANDIT.

Footnote: Jeremy Joe Kronsberg (sp?), writer of EVERY WHICH WAY...went to the orangutan-comedy well again with the Danny DeVito/Tony Danza epic GOING APE from 1981.