The Mule: Film Review

The Mule: Film Review

Cast: Clint Eastwood, Dianne Wiest, Andy Garcia, Michael Pena
Director: Clint Eastwood

Eastwood's back and this time, he's looking somewhat worse for wear.

Walking with a stoop, and a hunch, shuffling along, the 88-year-old proffers his take on the New York Times' piece,  "The Sinaloa Cartel's 90-Year-Old Drug Mule."

Eastwood is Earl Stone, a horticulturist whose specialty is lillies. But his time on the farm tending to the flowers which bloom and die in one day has come at a cost - estranged from his family for choosing work over them, his world is empty when his farm is foreclosed.

Offered a chance to make some money when desperation hits, the curmudgeonly Earl takes up the chance to transport some goods for the Mexican cartel, thanks to his clean record, and lack of criminal history.

But unbeknownst to Stone, the DEA is pulling together a case against the cartels - and his involvement sets him on a collision course with an agent (Cooper) keen to close the group down.

The Mule is a reflective piece, aimed at provoking viewers into thinking about their own propensity for work over family.

It's also one which advocates for Earl Stone, his dubiously racist views and his approach to life.

Yet Eastwood gives the old man something of a relatable edge, and in the latter stages of the film, he delivers a degree of pathos to the man realising he couldn't have bought more time, even if he'd tried.

It's a hard ask in the back portion of the film, because the family are more broadstrokes characters early on, rather than deeply immersive ones that you know he'll orbit. Thankfully scenes with Eastwood and Wiest have a depth that's tangible, and are blessed with a humanity that's hard to ignore.

Eastwood wallows in the stubborn - whether it's railing against the internet, calling people Negroes when helping them, or mocking a Mexican cartel member by comparing him to a Nazi. Regardless of whether you buy into the racist furore in some quarters, there's no denying that Stone is a product of his time, and Eastwood has no difficulty breathing life into the old dog.

Make no mistake, this is no classic cat and mouse chase; there's a more genial gentle edge to the pace, something akin to Redford's The Old Man and The Gun from late last year.

It mutes the message it wants to deliver, and never quite ups the ante in terms of pace, being as fraily presented as Earl Stone himself .

Sure, there's a poignancy here to be had, and maybe some of it comes from how Eastwood looks, but thanks to thinly-etched edges, it never quite scales the heights you would expect this wistful drug trip to take.