Real Men Invoke Fear and Awe Just With Their Eyebrows

Lee Marvin was a peerless sonuvabitch in so many ways, but this interview is fascinating. Foremost for just the sheer, slightly frightening MANness he gives off with his aging features. He could hide an entire screenplay just in his eyebrows! Just watch him smoke a cigarette in a merciless grapple with the damn coffin-nail! The thousand-yard stare at his interviewer is cringe-worthy, even though softened by the watery tell of his years; but you have to admire the moxie of someone who can sit across from all that and still ask questions:

Just damn if Marvin doesn’t soften– if small but elegant graces don’t appear as twinkling eyes re-ignite the glorious memory of a different day in Hollywood, a different time in America. A time of the Cowboy spirit, the rugged individual, the man who could carefully groom wild eyebrows into an asset, punish a cigarette for its cancerous temerity, and charm a woman right out of her virtue –but only if she asked him to.

Time enough for politics on Monday. Right now, a Western movie seems appropriate. Western: a happy coincidence of term as both Western ideology and the Wild West threaten to fade into the sunset. Fading not for lack of caring or vigilance, but simply because cowboys don’t have the time or the meddlesome energy to herd folks into their way of thinking.

It might not be the easy way, but it’s the Cowboy Way.

12 thoughts on “Real Men Invoke Fear and Awe Just With Their Eyebrows

  1. John Gallagher (interviewer)…Brooklyn guy…back when Brooklyn carved out its archetype for toughness, and the the men weren’t a bunch of spindly, bed bug-ridden, Spin Doctors-y fairies from flyover states who pee in a pot of Spaghetti O’s and call it art.

    • I’d like to see any of the E-Hollywood nancy-boys try to interview Lee Marvin with stupid questions like, “If you were a tree. . .” or “How has fame changed you?” bullcrap.

  2. I always get Lee Marvin and James Coburn confused, but then if I see one I see both… in my head, which is a messy place sometimes.
    On another note, I used to watch “Paint Your Wagon” on a daily basis for one entire summer. I went around calling everyone “this nameless peckerhead” until my life was in danger.

  3. Whenever the namby-pamby, prissy-faced, metrosexual world we live in now gets me down, I pull out my well-used copy of The Wild Bunch. If just hearing William Holden say, “Let’s go.” doesn’t fill you with enough testosterone to chew on nails….well, there’s no hope. Turn in your Man Card.

    • I saw this comment during my lunch break (yeah, right) and I felt hair growing on my knuckles just from reading it. Effin’ A.

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