by Adam Ritchie, Contributing Writer
Welcome back to another 20th Century Flicks. This month, we’re going to discuss, what is cool? Not a physical object or being, but what actually classifies something as cool? It’s an interesting word, “cool.”It is about the only urban slang word that has lasted for several generations. Every new generation invents their own lexicon. However, the word “cool” has been around since Elvis, maybe before that. Sure, sometimes you’d get a “daddy-o” tacked on to the end, but “cool” has been around forever.
So what makes something, or someone, cool? For me, the word “cool” has appropriate application in several scenarios. For this month, though, let us look into how “cool” is defined by individuality.
Paul Newman was already a star by the time Cool Hand Luke was made in 1967. Directed by Stuart Rosenberg, and starring George Kennedy in an Oscar winning performance, Cool Hand Luke is ostensibly a prison drama. Luke (Newman) is sent to a prison camp for vandalizing parking meters, and from the get-go, is never on good terms with the social order of the other prisoners. He eventually gains their respect by bluffing a gamer of poker, earning himself the titular moniker of Cool Hand Luke.
Leaning into the flower power themes of the time, Luke is a very specific kind of anti-authoritarian. He speaks for an entire generation with his rebellious and anti-establishment nature, portraying the subtle art of not giving a $#!@ with convincing conviction. Luke is far and away his own man — an individual in the truest sense of the word. He doesn’t care if you like him or you don’t; he does things his way and not yours. This assured individuality is what someone from my era might call cool.
I’m not even sure how “cool” is defined in the modern, millennial generation. Perhaps I should ask my children, but they’re far to cool to for a father who has always been in his 40s, and was never once in his life a teenager or cool himself. Of course, I say this in jest. However, they might be right about me never being cool. But… in 1967, cool was Paul Newman. It was his character, Luke. Someone who rebels against authority and refuses to conform to social norms.
What is he rebelling against exactly? We’re never truly told. The only inkling we get is that he is a World War II veteran who has a score to settle with some parking meters. What we do come to understand is that Luke is troubled. He has a checkered past, and a family he cares for and which cares for him. He is not exactly cool, yet he has chosen to be a loner as a coping mechanism for his internal pain, closing himself off from a society he has never been at home in, and his true self, projecting a façade of being cool.
Luke hates the world for all the tough breaks and hands he has been dealt. He holds the pain like a grudge against a planet that owes him nothing. Circling back to how he became a bunkhouse hero, he was dealt a bad hand, yet still won with bravado and a steely presence. That one hand of poker is the entire metaphor of Luke as a person. He has been dealt so many bad hands in life that he knows exactly how to face them and come out on top.
The film itself lets you know “cool” isn’t an exact science, as Luke doesn’t have it all go his own way. Not by any means. But he gives as good as he gets, and the film also lets us know that for anyone, life is not all sunshine and lollipops. Life is about being resilient, choosing your battles wisely, and picking yourself back up in the face of hardship. Find your place in the world, and try to make the most of the hands you are dealt. The succinct through line of Cool Hand Luke is that it is a cautionary tale of living the mentality Luke has. It is actually speaking against those ideals, not for them. It is a clever “pull the wool over your eyes” theme that you will understand if you have seen the film already. If not, the ultimate fate Luke faces is answer enough to “those no-good hippies!” Conform or face the consequences.
As you might expect, Newman is sensational as Luke, and he carries this film on his back. For the life of me, I can’t understand how George Kennedy won an Oscar for his role here. His performance is distracting, inconsistent, and in parts actually bad. But those were simpler times, and I haven’t seen any of the other nominees for 1968 to pass qualified judgment.
Cool Hand Luke is well worth your time, and even if it doesn’t gel with you at first, it will remain with you and convince you to adore it for everything it is pretending to stand for.
You can read more from Adam Ritchie, and follow him on Twitter and Letterboxd