The Legacy Behind Gran Torino
February 22, 2009
Clint Eastwood’s latest undertaking, Gran Torino, did not fail movie buffs and car fanatics this winter season (it did, however, fail to meet Oscar standards). Critics love the dynamic characters and chronicled dark history of the Hmong culture, and how it has basically informed the entire country of Hmong people’s existence. Set in a Detroit family suburb turned ghetto, Torino reports on the gangbanging nature of this neighborhood and the culture clashes that follow.
What’s surprising to know is that the roots of the film lie in Minneapolis and St. Paul. Bee Vang, who plays the shy Thao bullied by the local gang, resides in a suburb north of the cities. Like most of the actors, he was cast without any previous acting experience. In search of completely authentic Hmong roles, casting directors stationed themselves in St. Paul, Fresno, and Detroit—the areas with the largest Hmong populations in the U.S., respectively. The screenplay was composed at Grumpy’s Bar in Minneapolis as well, written after-hours by then-truck driver Nick Schenck. When unwinding from a physically draining day at work. His past experiences paved the way of script details—after meeting war veterans at the liquor shop Schenck worked at, and befriending Hmong co-workers at another factory job, the ideas conglomerated. The film was originally set within the wintry borders of Minnesota, but once the Warner Brothers became involved, this location was moved to Michigan for a measly reason—a whopping 42 percent tax break. After this, the original script has been said to receive only minor alterations.
Korean War veteran Walt Kowalski (Eastwood) lives a bitterly agreeable life alongside cheerful Hmong neighbors, colliding with them in the form of hilariously racist remarks, and soon after, sappy friendships. His hatred toward the immigrants builds the action and keeps it going, but fundamentally, it acknowledges that racism, after many years, is still alive. As director, Eastwood encouraged all Hmong actors to ad-lib in their native language. Some of those lines turned out to be pitfalls, having since been deemed inaccurate and condescending representations of social stereotypes by other Hmong people.
Gran Torino takes place in a suburb of Detroit called Highland Park. The dingy aspects of the old factory town are shown well, yet some demographical statistics do not quite match up. For instance, Highland Park is predominantly African American—ninety-three percent, while Asians comprise only a quarter percent of the population. The film drew solely on white and Hmong characters, displaying a sort of neighborhood that Highland Park is not. Not enough to produce a Hmong gang, at least. In retrospect, the American Community Survey estimated Hmong population in Minnesota to exceed 60,000 in 2006, which includes only registered residents. The first Hmong gang is said to have originated in St. Paul in the mid-eighties to give teenagers protection from brutal racism that they frequently encountered. Petty crimes defined their acts of retribution at first, and with bands branching out and multiplying, the activities quickly transformed into violent thefts, assaults, and rapes. Torino simulates these crimes with many gory scenes of attacks on non-members as well as the turning-point rape of Sue.
The film focuses on the younger generation of Hmong in America. Immigration has different effects on all ages, causing divergences in families. “Old school” ways of living don’t stick well with teenagers trying to Americanize and consequentially, they break out into gangs attempting to build a place for themselves in the social hierarchy. Producers strove to stay true to Hmong customs enough to hire a cultural consultant, the director of the Hmong Arts Connection in St. Paul. Hang Garvey was on set during filming, helping to cast Hmong actors and preserve traditions. The shaman ritual at the birth of a child, handshake use, and the humble personality of the Hmong reflected their culture to its true extent.
Gran Torino’s intense moments of distress balanced well with comical insertions, but nonetheless exemplified a way of life unknown to audiences across the country. Along with Eastwood’s performance and heroic tactics, we are also reminded that the Twin Cities are Hollywood-worthy relics.
