Decided to play some movie catch up last night. Watched 3:10 To Yuma and American Gangster. Both great movies. I have to agree with what I've heard about Yuma, that it's the best Western since Unforgiven, although there are a few challengers to that assertion. Gangster was a little fractured, but that probably has to do with the 'based on a true story' bit. That always tends to trap the filmmakers into trying to tell too much of the story. Real stories, and the full truth of their context, always take more than two hours and some clever story-telling (of course, most people I know do this all the time with themselves, but I digress...).
The emerging theme is...well, it should be disturbing, but, to borrow a line from The Boondock Saints, I'm strangely comfortable with it. The villains I come across lately, in movies, books, in life...I am identifying with them. Anton Chigurh, Daniel Plainview, Frank Lucas, Ben Wade, to name only four recent cinematically-encountered gentlemen. I get them. I relate to them. I often end up pulling for them.
So, my inner-villain is getting a lot of positive attention, and my inner-hero is leaking faith. And I know I should be more worried about this. But I'm not. Time was, I used to play a pretty convincing Bad Guy. And if I'm going to get all the consequences of being the bad guy, and all the baggage of being the good guy, I gotta ask myself one question (this time borrowing from The Departed):
What's the difference?
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