Showing posts with label Richard Donner. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Richard Donner. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

Action Hero or Sex Symbol: The Mystery of Mel Gibson

Mel Gibson is an anomaly. He is an action star, who, early on in his career, allowed himself to be sexualized. He was one of the few action stars of the 80s who had sex scenes in his films. Mickey Rourke was another actor who allowed himself to objectified in this way. Though this comparison may be inaccurate because Rourke stuck primarily to dramatic roles. Action stars of the 80s were never sex symbols. Schwarzenegger, Stallone, Willis (to some extent) etc, used their bodies in film but in a purely action oriented realm, i.e. in killing, fighting or heading to kill and fight. This sort of behavior is expected and is perceived as a normal portrayal of maleness in film. In her book, Big Bad Wolves: Masculinity in American Film, critic Joan Mellon asserts that the "ideal man of [films] is a violent one. To be sexual he has to be not only tall and strong but frequently brutal, promising to overwhelm a woman by physical force that was at once firm and tender." In films of earlier eras, sex was implied and never shown, yet the viewer still got the sense of the characters as sexual beings. Then in later films, actors such as Richard Gere and Michael Douglas starred in more pointedly sexual roles (though none took it as far as Rourke). But these actors aren't action stars. In the case of the 80s action hero, the height and strength and brute force are ever present, but they seldom if ever "overwhelm" women. In fact, they're seldom even near women. If they are, it is is in a rescuing or protective or, in some cases, teaching or training capacity.

Channeling his intensity into other things besides crime fighting.
Enter Mel Gibson to totally buck this trend. Perhaps he was able to do this because he wasn't very tall, was only sort of muscular and also had an ability to play emotional torment well. These displays of emotion could certainly be characterized as feminine, but in the Lethal Weapon films Riggs' tears were usually followed by someone being shot, punched, drowned or thrown off a building; or, as in the case of Lethal Weapon 2, Riggs' emotional vulnerability towards Rika Van Den Haas (Patsy Kensit) is promptly followed by rigorous sex in which Gibson is both "firm, tender" and also partially nude. More to the point, the year before Lethal Weapon 2, Gibson starred in an abysmal movie called Tequila Sunrise, in which he plays Mac Mckussic, a drug dealer who, according to a witness to his sexual exploits, "fucks like a world champion." It follows that if an action star is going to be sexual it must be made evident at every turn that they are also the best at sex.

Somehow Gibson managed to be both tough yet tender and be an 80s action star. Yet it is interesting that in the first two Lethal Weapon films, he never gets the girl. As if to reaffirm the idea that action stars can't fall in love, both his wife and Van Den Haas are killed. The latter event reminds Riggs of his previous loss and makes him even crazier which leads Lethal Weapon 2 to its violent conclusion. In this way, the film takes a risk in that it lets Gibson be sexual, but then promptly undermines that by returning him to his usual work-obsessed, crime-fighting, tough guy ways. Still, the vulnerability is naturally present in Gibson's face. There is a wildness to his eyes and a set to his mouth that is compelling. He became a sex symbol for women and someone men could admire. He also almost fell into the regular guy action hero category (a niche Bruce Willis basically owns) except somehow he wasn't- and this was owed to his intensity and the depth he possessed that most other action stars of the day lacked.



Source:
Mellon, Joan. Big Bad Wolves: Masculinity in American Film.

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

The Intersection of Masculinity and Race

Striking Poses, Striking Difference
Though Walter Hill's 48 Hours was released in 1982 it still retains a rather late 70s feel. Jack Cates' (Nick Nolte) wardrobe has very nearly the same drab brown button down formality of Eastwood's Harry Callahan except Cates appears to be loosening up ever so slightly for the new era. He wears blazers, but no tie or sweater. His oxford shirt is unbuttoned at least to the second or third button. Instead of slacks, he wears fitted boot cut jeans and cowboy boots. He is casual yet still formal. When Cates and Reggie Hammond (Eddie Murphy) are introduced in one of the earlier scenes in the film, it is evident that Cates is a little square on fashion. Hammond makes a point of correcting Cates' assumption that his suit cost $500 when in fact its price was close to $1000. Aside from differences concerning fashion, Cates and Hammond clash in other ways. One source of tension is that Cates is a cop who needs Hammond, a criminal, to help capture a fugitive named Ganz (James Remar). The primary cause of the friction, however, is racial- Cates is white and Hammond is black. It is clear from the outset that Cates is not too thrilled about black people, referring to Hammond first as "watermelon", "a charcoal-colored loser", a "spear-chucker" and then later breaking out the biggest racial slur of them all in a dramatic confrontation. Not only is Cates sporting a similar though modified look as Harry Callahan, he is also carrying over the racial attitudes of the previous era, using racial epithets with the same aplomb as Callahan.

Cates is slightly more open and relaxed than Callahan, however. In this way he ceases to be a 70s character and becomes more of an 80s one. Sure, he's tough and somewhat formal as evidenced by the blazer, but he has a swagger, a looseness. There is, from the outset, banter between Cates and Hammond that, as the film progresses, becomes friendly as opposed to hostile. Of course, this follows the true buddy cop (Hammond becomes an honorary cop in this film) movie formula. Certainly, 48 Hours can be credited with paving the way for a later and even more popular interracial buddy cop film, Lethal Weapon.


Richard Donner's Lethal Weapon was released just five years after 48 Hours but the mood couldn't be more different. Though they both take place in California, 48 Hours' San Francisco and Lethal Weapon's Los Angeles seem worlds apart. Where Cates and Hammond visit San Francisco's grimiest spots, Riggs and Murtaugh are searching for drug smugglers in the glitziest LA clubs. When Sgt. Riggs (Mel Gibson) and Sgt. Murtaugh (Danny Glover) meet, they, like Cates and Hammond, take an instant dislike to each other. This dislike isn't due to their racial differences, nor to different life experiences (they're both cops) but rather because Murtaugh perceives Riggs to be a loose cannon and Riggs fears Murtaugh is going to be a strictly by the book type of police officer.

If there is racial tension in this film it isn't expressed. In five years, open use of racial slurs in films had become frowned upon. There are, however, clear racial roles in this film. Though they share nearly equal screen time, somehow Gibson's Riggs seems like the main character, while Murtaugh is something of a satellite, an accessory. Though Murtaugh has been an officer longer, Riggs is characterized as braver and smarter. In one scene in a firing range, Riggs shows off his shooting skills by achieving a near impossible shot from a great distance, thereby making Murtaugh's impressive shooting seem lackluster by comparison. The point is made early on in the film as to whom is the most masculine. Murtaugh seems to accept this role without question, seemingly following Riggs' lead as the film progresses, though he is the older, more experienced cop. Nevertheless, these roles seem to suit both characters and they successfully fight crime while becoming partners and friends.

Both 48 Hours and Lethal Weapon focus on race, the latter more subtly than the former. Each film provides a showcase on the ways in which race and masculinity intersect. In 48 Hours, Murphy's Hammond is a jive talking criminal who revels in his ability to be infinitely cooler than Cates. Yet he is never portrayed as suitable competition in the masculinity department. He gets his moment to play cop in a redneck bar, but uses a slur to describe himself during the only moment where he truly gets to display an authentic masculinity. Alternatively, Glover's Murtaugh is an upstanding character, a family man and respected police officer who still cannot compete with Riggs' toughness, intensity, bravery and shooting skills. Hammond and Murtaugh both are much more formally dressed then their white counterparts, remaining in suits throughout the duration of both films. Yet in Hammond's case the suit is too flashy to garner respect, while Murtaugh's suit seems to suggest advancing age and irrelevance. No matter what they do or wear, they still don't quite measure up.  Curiously and rather contradictorily, these films likely played a role in lessening racial tensions at the same time that they play to the racial status quo.