Photo by Sue De Lapa
Monday, January 12, 2009
Going Eastwood: In search of Clint Eastwood, I headed north to his ranch just outside Carmel. Even if Eastwood had never made a movie, California would owe him an environmental Oscar for saving the old place from condo-ization.
I didn’t really expect to see Clint at the Mission Ranch resort, although I did check out the sometimes-boisterous restaurant bar, where he occasionally shows up. Sue and I were just making a one-night getaway, about four hours up Highway 101 from Santa Barbara. (Longer if you make the spectacular Highway 1 coastal drive.)
On the Beat
Anyway, I’ll be able to hear Clint quizzed on the Arlington Theatre stage January 29, when he’ll receive the Santa Barbara International Film Festival’s Modern Master Award. The fest runs Jan. 22-Feb. 1. Here’s a 78-year-old guy still acting, writing, and directing challenging films at a time when most people his age are resting their weary bones on a Barcalounger and watching movies on TV, not making them. His latest is Gran Torino and I hear that although Clint plans to keeping making films he doesn’t plan to do any more acting. (Wanna bet?) The onetime high plains drifter is still going strong. In Gran Torino, which he directed and which is just out, he plays a bitter old racist who goes through changes. His character discovers that he has more in common with his immigrant neighbors than his own spoiled boomer sons.
There’s a set-jawed Dirty Harry toughness of mind about Eastwood, who after all these years makes movies his own way, and you’d better not get in his way. He’s immensely proud of his work and is happy to come to Santa Barbara and face questioning by Leonard Maltin before 2,000 people. (These Film Fest quiz sessions tend to be friendly.)
The Mission Ranch is a pretty place; lovely old frame buildings overlooking a bumpy green meadow where sheep graze and the distant Carmel River runs into the sea. You can see rugged Point Lobos State Reserve beyond that. Eastwood bought the former dairy in 1986 and lovingly restored the 1850 farmhouse, hayloft, and other buildings. It needed work, especially after serving as an officers’ hangout during World War II. Now it’s genteel. Sue and I sipped coffee out on the restaurant deck and watched a magnificent full-screen sunset paint itself across the sky. Then we bundled up against the chill and ordered food. No dinner reservations accepted except from resort guests.
Later at night things get livelier. The piano bar is famous for volunteer solos by locals who drop in, guys invite tourist women to dance, decibels soar, and the merriment is enough to keep the sheep awake. It’s the best nightlife in a town where there isn’t any to speak of. A fire blazes in the corner fireplace and the wood-burning stove is the same one featured in Eastwood’s The Unforgiven.
In town earlier, we headed for lunch at Il Fornaio, where you think you’re in Rome and where we gobbled Castroville artichokes stuffed with Il Fornaio parmesan bread crumbs, baked in a pizza oven, and served with lemon butter sauce. Clint wasn’t there, either.
Equally famous in Carmel is Doris Day (Doris Mary Ann von Kappelhoff), but she’s equally hard to catch a glimpse of. At her high-end Cypress Inn in town, dogs are heartily welcomed, due to Day’s animal-rights philosophy. Posters of her movies are everywhere and a room is set aside for showings of her films. The bar turns out what some call the best burger in town. It’s a locals hangout. Day herself pretty much stays out of sight, but her home, on 11 acres, can be glimpsed on a hill above the 18th green at the Quail Lodge, outside of town.
At 84, Doris keeps a low public profile, but one wonders if she could ever be lured south to be honored at the Film Festival.
Paul Went South: Paul Bhalla, who made a name for himself working wonders in Santa Barbara with cuisine from India, called from Guadalajara, Mexico, and left a message with news that he’s opened a restaurant there. Called the menu “adventurous.” My Internet search showed that Paul, born in Punjab, India, has opened Cuisine de la India with his Spanish-speaking wife Sonia. I’ve got his phone number if someone wants to head down to try his food.
Barney Brantingham can be reached at barney@independent.com or (805) 965-5205. He writes online columns and a print column on Thursdays