What is the mysterious appeal to American writers and directors of the infantile man-child who behaves despicably while drunk and then drinks to forget the consequences of his own behavior and then behaves even more despicably? His nemesis is the man with self-control, who owns things, who keeps an ordered life, and is emasculated by plot developments contrived to reveal his impotence. His redemption is the beautiful ingénue– usually much younger than the hero– who thinks nothing of her own needs and desires and everything of how she must be with this glob of raging emotions.
Paul Schrader, are you there? Robert Zemeckis? David Russell? Did you see “Lawless”? Did you think “Beasts of the Southern Wild” was terrific? It even shows up in a milder, less annoying form in “The Wire”, in the character of McNulty.
We are supposed to believe the hero– say, Wade, in the movie “Affliction”– is somehow more authentic and real and honest, and thus heroic, than the callow, effete self-restrained men around him. His rage is the product of disgust with a corrupt, unjust world. McNulty commits outrageous acts because, we are given to believe, he is passionate about getting drug dealers off the streets and punishing murderers. “The Wire” has the courage to reveal that McNulty is a flawed, narcissistic character– and his girlfriend sees him for what he is.
Most depictions of this type of character would have you believe that these characters are ruggedly handsome and virile and have life to them. The iconic model for this character is Ethan in “The Searchers”. And “The Searchers”, like “The Wire”, had the guts to give an honest picture of the man: he walks off alone at the end, a lingering shot that has become a cliché, and perversely iconic, when it’s really a profoundly tragic moment. This is an irresolvable condition. He can’t experience true love because, almost by definition, anything that appears to be love in this universe tries to possess and emasculate the hero.
Walter White in “Breaking Bad”.
The secret of the appeal of these characters is in the audience. How often don’t you see a movie in which a cop or soldier or spy– the hero of the story– brutally kills someone– and you don’t mind. You are given “permission” to enjoy the sadism and the violence because the writers and directors always carefully lay some groundwork. We will see the victim kick a dog, spit on a child, rob an old lady, rape a virgin– anything repulsive will do. So when our hero sadistically beats, stabs, and kills the villain, we can enjoy it: he deserved it. Our character is not a psychopath: he is a hero.
In the same way, we are supposed to enjoy the bad behaviour, the outrages, the infidelity, the cruelty of the drunk because he is so damn authentic. He drinks because he has soul, because he feels things intensely, because he has passion– not because he is weak. It’s a reflection on us, the audience. It’s a statement to ourselves: I may look weak, because I’m fat, and lazy, and inactive, and insensitive, but I am actually a raging cauldron of virtue and passion. If some child rapist, drug-dealer, terrorist ever showed up in my neighborhood…. just watch!