The 1972 Gran Torino from Gran Torino

Clint Eastwood wants to be very clear. His new film, Gran Torino isn’t a car film. “No, it isn’t,” insists the Hollywood legend who now in his 78th year performed duties on this movie both in front of and behind the camera as star, director, producer and even co-writer of the theme song. “At the end, it’s just a symbol,” he explains. Oh, but what a stunning symbol it is.

The film centres on Eastwood’s grizzled Korean veteran Walt Kowalski, a recent widower who finds himself a relic of the past with little interest in or respect for the changing world around him. His face is sculpted into a permanent scowl as he spits out racist insults at the local Asian community and even his own family is far from immune from his sharp tongue. However there remains one thing in Walt’s lonely life to be treasured and cherished – his 1972 Gran Torino.

This classic muscle car is carefully hidden away in Walt’s garage, preserved in impressive condition almost as a museum piece rather than a functioning, practical machine. Here he can secretly lavish on it all of his affection and attention, preferring to drive his beaten-up 1972 Ford F-Series truck for day to day trips rather than risk his precious Gran Torino.

This carefully constructed sphere of isolation and contempt is shattered when local Hmong teenager Thao (played by newcomer Bee Vang in his big screen debut) tries to steal the Gran Torino as initiation to a street gang. After single-handedly scaring off the gang, Walt is celebrated as a local hero and as a penance for his aborted theft Thao’s family volunteers him to help Walt, his atonement taking the form of aiding Walt in the care and maintenance of the immaculate motor.

As a symbol the car is multi-faceted, skillfully embodying so much of Walt’s personality as Eastwood attests: “Walt sort of is the Gran Torino”. Like its owner it’s a remnant of a bygone age, noticeably out of sync with the modern world. The Gran Torino, Ford’s dramatic re-design of the Torino was once described by motoring journalist Tom McCahill as featuring a “kind of pleasing, no-nonsense styling”, and the same could be said of Walt. It is also American through-and-through and boasts impressive power.

Taking another approach, the car also mirrors Walt’s predicament. It was hidden from view, kept at an intentional distance until the world around it suddenly closed in and insisted it be noticed. Online fans have opined that the car symbolises Walt’s heart and though it sounds sentimental and simplistic (two things neither Walt nor the film could be accused of) there is an element of truth in it, though artfully handled by Eastwood’s economically sparse direction and underplayed performance.