Clint Eastwood's America

by Sam B Girgus
(Polity, £15.99)

Sam B Girgus's book is an attempt to reappraise Clint Eastwood's films as works of profound ethical significance.

Highlighting moral depth in the films of a director with an image still associated with violence, conservatism and machismo may well have proved a daunting task.

This might be why Girgus is inclined to lay his praise for Eastwood on too thickly. Describing Eastwood's artistic progression as being a "spiritual quest" is just one example of phrasing which may be valid in the philosophical context of the book but comes across as irritatingly earnest.

This is a shame because much of Girgus's study has real merit. His detailed but easy to read analysis examines the emergence of Eastwood as an undeniably gifted director whose technical expertise has grown in parallel with the philosophical power of his films' content. Girgus explores the latter and, using the work of various philosophers and psychoanalysts, uncovers a central theme of the necessity for empathy in the modern US at the core of Eastwood's work.

This is not the message one might expect from a staunch conservative like Eastwood but Girgus sees many unexpectedly liberal dimensions in the director's films. Elements such as the criticism of US materialist indulgence in Flags Of Our Fathers and the apparent pro-ecological message of Pale Rider suggest that Eastwood is a more politically progressive figure than his devotion to the Republican Party might imply.

Even so, as Girgus makes clear, liberal ideas like these don't necessarily translate to a clear left-wing stance. Eastwood's film Million Dollar Baby was loathed by the US's conservative establishment for its open-minded examination of euthanasia. But Girgus sees the film less as taking a side in this debate and more as a method of highlighting ethical complexities which arise when assisted suicide is considered.

Arguments like this, along with many others in the book, are convincing.

Unfortunately the author's insistent praise of Eastwood - at one point comparing him to Shakespeare - tends to undermine his credibility. Continually reminding us of Eastwood's talent, even when it is plainly demonstrated in his analysis, begins to feel a little like overcompensation.

While championing a filmmaker is certainly nothing to be ashamed of, one can't escape the suspicion that Girgus's admiration for Eastwood may be damaging his objectivity and clouding his critical faculties.

As a result we are left unsure of whether we are getting Clint Eastwood's America or Sam B Girgus's Clint Eastwood.

Steve Richards