D*#k Flick: Jeremiah Johnson

It's been awhile since The Common Man has watched a real man's movie. As The Common Man once opined, "Guys need more movies just for them. Movies they don't have to share. Movies their wives and girlfriends will be embarrassed to admit seeing." The Common Man also should have noted that said movies should actually be decent and fun to watch, since reviewing The Condemned almost turned The Common Man off from the enterprise entirely. He almost bagged it all and lit out for the territories, leaving his DirecTV behind. But, then, Battlestar Galactica and Lost are starting back up this January, so The Common Man thought better of it.

If he'd done it though, it probably would have gone something like Jeremiah Johnson, the 1972 Frontier drama starring super-duper-mega-star Robert Redford. Several weeks ago, The Deacon (The Common Man's private brewmaster, Godfather to The Boy, and paragon of manliness) recommended the film to The Common Man as a moving portrayal of the manly virtues. The film begins with a disillusioned Johnson (Redford), leaving civilization behind to live as a trapper in the Rocky Mountains. After abandoning the American war effort in Mexico (it's telling the film is released at the end of the Vietnam War), Johnson believes he has no further use for human contact, and that a solitary life in the wild will help him find peace.

Yet, like so many young men who enter a larger world, Johnson is ill-equipped for the dangers he finds. His gun is inadequate and so are his survival skills. Eventually, Johnson is so desperate, he's reduced to trying to scoop trout from a freezing stream with his hands. Fortunately, he comes across salvation in finding the frozen body of a mountain man and his very big gun, and Bear Claw (Will Geer), a Yoda-like guru who takes Johnson in and teaches him how to trap, hunt, and avoid trouble.

Yet, even in his desire to be alone, Johnson cannot avoid the temptations of human contact and the call of civilization. (spoiler alert) He stops at a cabin to help a family destroyed by an Indian attack, and the grief-stricken mother sends her one remaining sun off with him. Later, while exchanging gifts with a tribe of Flathead, Johnson inadvertantly ends up with a wife. Together, they find a small place in the mountains and being a husband and father finally make Johnson happy.

However, while called away helping settlers through the mountain passes, his home is attacked by Crow, who massacre his wife and boy. Driven by grief and madness, Johnson avenges their deaths on the offending Crows, who then send warriors to kill him. Hunted, Johnson lives on his wits and his anger, and becomes the antithesis of what he was seeking. Rather than living peacefully, he becomes the embodiment of war and death, a boogie man both feared and respected. And aside from this fundamental shift in him, Johnson ends the film where he began, totally and utterly alone. End Spoiler.


Jeremiah Johnson is one of the manliest of films because of the hero's growth into manhood, and because he accepts the responsibilities of being a man. Though he doesn't initially want a wife or son, he refuses to abandon or sell them, taking care of them and building a life together. While not romantic in a traditional sense, his decision to allow them into his life eventually fills his heart with love and he's able to fulfill both key male roles, of husband and father, admirably. And when that love and identity is stripped from him, Johnson metes out retribution for the deaths of his family and others. Yet he maintains a strict morality about his justice, only hunting those hunt him. And despite his suffering, Johnson does not complain. Instead he says almost nothing, silently accepting his lot and preparing for his vengeance. He is not proud of what he has become, but nor does he turn from it. Plus, Redford wears a manly blonde beard.

Aside from these manly attributes, Jeremiah Johnson shines with brilliant performances, particularly by Redford and Geer. And the direction by Sydney Pollack is excellent. It is often a beautiful film, and often horrifying. Pollack appropriately captures both the majesty of the frontier, and the loneliness of it, and does not clutter the film with unnecessary sound effects. Instead, the film stands as empty as the wilderness, and on the strength of its story and acting.

The Common Man was duly impressed by this film, a largely overshadowed piece of the Redford and Western canons. It is profoundly sad, but oddly enjoyable. Depressing but impressive. It is cerebral and challenges its audience to continue to root for the protagonist, even when his blood lust is clearly up. And as a d*#k flick, it has most assuredly earned its two balls.

A Crappy Job

The first and best role model any boy can have is his father, of course. From watching dad, boys can learn how to treat a woman, how to raise a family, and what constitutes responsible behavior. However, because no one really wants to become their father, boys are forced to look elsewhere for additional examples of manhood. They look to their teachers and their friends. They look to popular culture and they look to history. And, perhaps above all, they look to professional sports. Most sports are traditionally masculine to some degree, teaching competitiveness and camaraderie, sportsmanship and fairness. And a healthy respect for following and breaking the rules. And with their impressive skills and physiques, athletes look the part of the man, usually far more so than a boy's father. It's easy to understand why boys look up to them.

And so, millions of boys in every generation aspire not just to be athletes like their heroes, but to be their heroes. But no one, at that age, really has any idea what their heroes are like when they aren't in the public eye. And so, those knowledge gaps are filled with versions of their idols conforming to whatever ideal of manhood the boy has, forgetting that many of their idols are in their early 20s (barely men themselves) and (by the nature of the environment they inhabit and how they've been treated) are essentially overgrown adolescents anyway.

Indeed, it is impossible for any generation to truly know its idols (at least until the biopic comes out. Not Mohammad Ali, not Mickey Mantle. Not Evel Knievil, not Reggie Jackson. Not Michael Jordan, not Kirby Puckett. Not Albert Pujols, Greg Maddux, Peyton Manning, Tom Brady, LeBron James, Dwayne Wade, or Michael Phelps. Indeed, except for very brief moments, you don't get to see the man behind the athlete's curtain. Unless you can walk a mile in their shoes, you'll never know exactly what kind of men they are/were.

And, it turns out, you may not want to walk a mile in their shoes. In a delightfully candid moment, Hall of Fame 3B George Brett pulled back the magic curtain that separates Brett the man from Brett the ballplayer, and you find out what George Brett does to his shoes (and his pants). The results are not safe for work (though they are relatively quiet). (note: the embedded video has been repaired)


(h/t to Shysterball)

Thousands of 30-40 year olds in Kansas City are weeping openly today as The Common Man writes this. Perhaps that curtain is best left where it is.

Now, who's the pitcher for this game?

Reboot

Hi, and welcome to The Common Man v. 2.0. My name is Rodney, and I'm in charge of the web page. You'll notice some changes around here, the first being our new address and layout. We're going for a real minimalist look around here, since the boss says that men don't like to decorate. That said, we're also trying to find ways to make the site more interactive than before. We'll have a new poll question every week and I invite all of you to comment, since I know The Common Man likes to know he has people reading his important work. And feel free to subscribe to the The Common Man's RSS feed on the sidebar. New postings will appear here daily (including weekends) as we try to build the blog's readership. Enjoy.

So, what else? A quick note about me. I'm 27 and was living in my mom's basement when the boss found me and imbued me with purpose. He told me I was wasting my life, playing Halo 3 in the dark, by myself. While he admitted that Halo 3 was awesome, and even sat down and showed me some moves, he said that a man has eventually got to make his own dinner and wash his own clothes and have sex in an elevator, or he can never become a man. So, 3 weeks later, I moved out and agreed to be his personal web lackey/grasshopper/best friend ever. I'm still working on the elevator, but everything else seems to be going well. Anyway, I won't be around much, just to let everyone know about changes to the blog and to talk about my metamorphosis.

And now, without further ado, here's the man himself:


Greetings, fellow travelers. It is said that in times of great crisis, when dark, ominous clouds dominate the horizon and the oceans dash ships of dreams on rocky shoals, that he will will come. A hero will arise and will protect the people from threats from within and without. He will set the world aright.

And so, it is with great enthusiasm that The Common Man announces his return to the blogosphere, just in time to watch that man hit the silver screen on July 19th. The Common Man has been touring the world with The Uncommon Wife and The Boy, seeking wisdom and resolve. From the fertile fields of the American north to the dry deserts of Egypt, from the depths of his basement to the hallowed halls of Nanda Parbat, The Common Man has consulted with kings, prophets, and marketing gurus. As a result, The Common Man returns not just older and wiser (and with more time on his hands), but with a renewed determination to spread his ideological seed and a new web design (all together, now: oooh! ahhhh).

Taken as a whole, The Common Man is dissatisfied with the ways that contemporary media defines the interests of the American male. Sure, sports show up very
brightly on his radar. And so do women. And big, crazy action movies. The Common Man is sympathetic to that. He loves those things too, and promises ample opportunity for you to discuss them. That said, when Americans let their popular culture drive and determine contemporary masculinity, important aspects of manliness get the short shrift. It's essential for men to discuss their responsibilities as well as their revelries. Current events as well as cup sizes. This is a site about the things men should care about, that women are welcome to read too (especially if you leave a phone number).