In what is already being called a legendary performance, Clint Eastwood stars in Gran Torino as Walt Kowalski, a newly widowed, virulently racist Korean War veteran in suburban Detroit. Walt fills the hours by scowling across his lawn at his Hmong neighbours. But, through a series of events that suggest Dennis the Menace as scripted by Paul Haggis, he becomes their cuddly, racist-epithet-spewing friend. And when his new pals are threatened by the nasty Asian street gang rolling around the neighbourhood, Walt decides to become their grumpy old maniac protector, too.

Sadly, we’re in the midst of Eastwood’s liberal-humanist period, so there’s no way that the film is going to make good on its Dirty Harry: The Later Years set-up — though it stokes our hopes for an octogenarian rampage. Supporters of Eastwood’s rep as a modern master might posit Gran Torino as an attempt to reckon with his urban-avenger persona, the way that Unforgiven deconstructed his gunslinger legacy. Except that Unforgiven didn’t play out as a camp classic: Gran Torino features a howler every five minutes, many courtesy of the young unknowns playing Walt’s charges. (Eastwood’s “just do one take” directorial philosophy tends to work better when Sean Penn is on hand.)

Those looking to play the “knowing self-parody” card should recall that there’s no recent precedent for Eastwood’s work having a sense of humour. As Sherlock Holmes would say, the simplest solution is the correct one, and the evidence onscreen is that of a debacle.