Gran Torino is authentic Eastwood: deliberate, resigned and compelling, all in one go. From it’s inauspicious name (it could almost be taken from the Fast and the Furious franchise), to its simple storytelling and leisurely pace, this is a film that doesn’t set out to impress, but does so easily. It captures you in this world, and somehow makes you identify with a man who, on the surface, is a thoroughly unpleasant character. The world through the eyes of Walt Kowalski is unfamiliar territory filled with alien things and people, but somewhere, in the midst of it all, he finds a thread to hang on to.

We start with Walt who’s about as bigoted, opinionated and working class as they come. He did 55 years in the Ford plant and scoffs at his sons riding around in foreign made autos, for what I assume are better fuel-efficiency and environmental standards, but that’s another stiry. He’s also a Korean War vet, and has a pretty narrow view of the immigrants that live in his neighbourhood, especially of the Asian variety, and that despite the fact that Walt is pretty much the only white guy left on the block. I jokingly told someone that the movie seemed to be Dirty Harry, Retired, but that’s an overly simplistic way to look at Gran Torino.

You look at Walt and you think that you wouldn’t want him as your father-slash-grandpa. But then again, you look at what he’s up against. His granddaughter only shows any interest in talking to him if it’s a way of securing herself his vintage automobile when he passes away. For his birthday his son and daughter-in-law buy him typical “seniors’” gifts like the Gopher and telephones with the huge keypad, before the coup des grâce: several pamphlets outlining the amenities of local retirement homes. He grumbles and groans about the lack of respect from today’s kids, until, from his front porch, he sees something that catches his eye: the teenage son of his next door neighbour, Thao, helping a lady across the street with her groceries.

Much of the movie is about how Walt manages to find something to believe in again, even though at his age, he’s all but given up on the things he originally believed in in the first place. Newcomer Bee Vang develops a great rapport with Eastwood’s Walt despite the dichotomy of Vang being an acting neophyte making his first film and being paired up with Clint Eastwood of all people. Their scenes together seem so natural and it provides the story with a lot of personality and humour. Thao and Walt, despite being at opposite ends of life, are both looking for direction, and they both find direction in helping each other.

Walt also develops a rapport with Thao’s older sister Sue, played by Ahney Her. Sue is the one that gets Walt to open up, through gentle prodding; inviting the old curmudgeon to a barbeque and teaching him the traditions of the Hmong, or at least how to survive the afternoon with a group of them. Sue’s bright and outgoing and in clear-contrast to her brother near the film’s beginning; it’s easy to see what’s appealing about her, and even Walt can’t deny that she’s charming, managing to get under the tough guy’s stone-faced neutrality. He even let’s her call him Wally because it’s not a phrase of disrespect, like others might mean, but rather a sign of affection. Her, like Vang, is a first time actor and you wouldn’t know it from the way she carries herself. She has a great deal of confidence and stage presence.

The real winning combo though when it comes to Gran Torino is its mix of humour and pathos. It starts with the grim aftermath of the death of Walt’s beloved wife as he lashes out at everyone, all the time. But he grows by surprising himself and getting close to the Lor family, and much to the chagrin of this old bigot, he finds that he has more in common with these people from foreign lands than he does with his own kith and kin. The subplot about Hmong gangsters trying to press Thao into joining them would seems almost superfluous, if it weren’t key to Walt, and Thao’s, redemption.

Any comparisons to Dirty Harry really do vanish with the climactic scene, which tests the American assumptions of answering violence with violence; what once worked as a natural problem-solving response is seen as a challenge to go bigger. Like The Dark Knight, notions of escalation and how far is to far, reign, and Walt’s simple and graceful solution to the gang predicament offers a strong sense of closure and is an act of profound selflessness. And again, it’s interesting to watch how the novice actors are able to play the scene and show a lot of real emotion without histrionics.

Most of all, it shows that Eastwood remains as capable in front of the camera as he is behind the camera. In an Eastwood film, time drifts by without much of a concern for watching the clock; the story always seems to take its own time without worrying about finding the beats. And as the credits roll, the gentle music of the theme song plays as you watch the titular vehicle drive on down the road, and wonder what happens next. But also you’re caught off guard that the end is come, and your glued to your seat thinking about the difference one man can make not matter how worn out he thinks he is.