Cry Macho

Nobody has turned getting old into a project like Eastwood has, the weariness deepening while the swagger fades like a mirage, leaving him frailer, more exposed and more recognisably human. But still Clint, still the myth.

There's something touching about seeing the 91-year-old Eastwood in such a reflective mood.

Terribly dated, messy and more than a little rough around the edges.

Clint Eastwood's best movies have an elegiac quality - they are the films of an older man, full of regrets - and this latest effort from the 91-year-old screen icon is elegiac squared.

The film's presence in 21st century cinemas is a marvel. It is like turning up at the ferry port to find yourself ushered on to a tea clipper. A rickety tea clipper.

This Tex-Mex drama about a retired rodeo star on a mercy mission has an intermittent dawdling charm. It's also slack and featherbrained - and set in the late 1970s, but you can barely tell.

Westerns often have an oversimplified plot that gives more space for the protagonists to develop and drive the story. Cry Macho attempts to do just that but fails on many levels.

Cry Macho is a slow, sweet story with outstanding cinematography that leaves viewers with the melancholy of a sunset, but it’s not a film that one must rush to see.

There aren't any injustices to rectify or honors to avenge in Cry Macho, but rather, personal quests about what one needs - beyond what one thinks one deserves. [Full review in Spanish]

Cry Macho? If anything, you’ll be crying tears of boredom...