Working Class Hero

I'm so grateful to Anne Helen Petersen at The Awl for helping to explain why I'm drawn to Jeremy Renner's good old-fashioned, brawny, American maleness.  I love the through-line she draws from Brando to Springsteen to Renner.  I, for one, welcome these manly-men as a respite from the carefully groomed metrosexual, the self-conscious hipster, the soulless financial titan, and the wan computer geek.  I'm also glad that after years of outsourcing to the blokes from Australia (Russell Crowe, Eric Bana, Hugh Jackman, Joel Edgerton, etc., etc.), America may finally be getting back into the business of Man-manufacturing.

Perhaps the one element Petersen misses, however, is the emotional resonance of the Brando/Springsteen/Renner archetype.  There's a thoughtfulness and a personal pride that elevates them above their calloused hands and begrimed skin.  The most attractive American working class heroes never give an indication that they are limited to physical pursuits or suffer from mental failings.  I'm not interested in just gobbling up the eye candy or descending into some brutish romance novel stereotype.  Brando, Springsteen, and Renner, through their characters as well as public personae, display intelligence, curiosity, and empathy.  (For this reason, I don't really agree with her inclusion of Channing Tatum who is probably a nice boy but who doesn't seem to have too many gears turning upstairs.)

Don't get me wrong, I've still got love for the nerds.  But in these final days of summer, during a political season of calculated name-calling, I'm deliriously happy to dream of a Man who is proud of the product of his own hands, who can build his own house, and who will smash the face of any asshole who tries to take it from him.

Rennerotic

I could watch Jeremy Renner in this B-roll from The Bourne Legacy all night long.  The action surrounding the motorcycle, starting at 4:30, is intensely arousing.

You're perfect, Jeremy.  Funny, smart, talented, stubborn, sweet, proud, wild, controlled.  You're everything a man should be.  Now shut the fuck up and go make the movie you were born for:

The Steve McQueen Biopic

Throttle Up

Jeremy Renner and Universal aren't messing around with their roll-out of The Bourne Legacy.  This cover story from Empire is building my anticipation.




Very nice work behind the camera, Sarah Dunn!

(Oh, those arms.  Those arms!)



And then there are these shots of Jeremy leaving Chateau Marmont on a motorcycle.  I sat on a motorcycle for the first time ever last night.  My desire to learn how to ride has been growing steadily over the past year and the thought of saddling up with Jeremy?

BAMF

Source

Anticipation

The Chinese calendar may say that this is the Year of the Dragon but anyone who has looked at the movie release schedule knows that it could more accurately be called the Year of the Renner.

The Bourne Legacy trailer is out and I can.not.wait until summer.



That broken vulnerability with which he says "Reno" kills me.  Then comes all the ass-kicking.  The menacing look at 1:26?  And the Grizzly Adams beard?!  And Edward Norton?!

My god.

Lady boners all over the place.  Oh, the exquisite anticipation.

Gallant Forty Twa

It's been over two weeks since I saw Gregory Burke's Black Watch and it's still with me.  So much so that the actor who played Cammy showed up in my dream last night.  It's haunting.



The staging of the show, at Chicago's Broadway Armory, was so striking, such a perfect fusion of theater and space, that I can't imagine seeing it any other way.  Surely they don't also produce this show on traditional proscenium stages?  So much would be lost.  No, you have to sit on those risers, in an homage to (mockery of?) a military tattoo.  You have to feel the reverberations of the explosions.  You have to stare through the action at your fellow man across the way (the night I saw the show, my fellow man happened to be Mayor Daley).

In watching these men - these beautiful, strong, silly, angry, brave, lost, crude, noble men - you can begin to see them as more than war story archetypes.  Their personalities emerge.  They peel back their layers of vulgarity to reveal an astonishing depth of character.

This show doesn't feel directed, it feels choreographed.  But to say "choreography" suggests the qualities of an effeminate dancer.  Happily, these men steer clear of such any such missteps.  This is movement.  Sometimes violent, at other times tender.  But always masculine.  Manly, but with the voices of choir boys:



I watched a good portion of this show breathless, tears streaming down my face.  The juxtaposition of horror and gallantry quite simply broke my heart.  Thanks to the Chicago Shakespeare Theater and the National Theatre of Scotland for one of the best theater experiences of my life.

Big Breakup

By: Charles Rex Arbogast, AP

Jay Cutler, you are no longer my boyfriend.  

For the past two years, I defended you.  I sang your praises when everyone else questioned your abilities.  I argued that you're tough, naturally gifted, and an instinctual leader.  I pointed to the fights you picked with refs on behalf of your fellow players as examples of your loyalty.  I marveled at your devotion when the offensive line was letting you down, exposing you to a terrifying string of brain-rattling sacks.  I liked that you didn't suffer the media-fools gladly.  You gave the impression  that maybe, just maybe, the Bears had finally found a quarterback who wasn't a complete headcase.  

Today you made me look like a fool.  I still think you're tough, and that's why I know that you punked out today.  The only injury that should have kept you off the field for an NFC Championship game was one that sent you to the hospital.  Maybe you didn't want to play the second half because you realized how lackluster your performance was in the first half?  

Regardless, you let me down.  What are you going to do to try to win me back?

What it means to be a man

There were several commercials during last night's Super Bowl that referenced the emasculation of the American man. The Dodge commercial “Man's Last Stand” spelled it out most clearly:

 

But if men's efforts at domestication are leaving them feeling abused and under-appreciated, I suggest they gather a few women around and have them watch this clip of Drew Brees with his son.

 

World's fastest turn-on. Big, strong, burly man? Check. Successful and powerful leader? Check. Tender and emotional father? Check. There is absolutely nothing more a woman could ask for. He can drive whatever damn car he wants as long as he parks it in my driveway!