I have to warn you, this week's column is probably going to strike you as mawkish and personal – but I thought I'd give the topic a spin and see how it went. Next week, we'll talk about our hopes and dreams of a Daredevil reboot, but today's column is the result of a long vacation, lack of a social life, and downloading the Netflix player.

First off, I must confess – I'm dating someone. Clint Eastwood circa 1970, to be exact. Judge our DVD romance all you will, decry that we break the time-space continuum, but we're very happy together. We just spent a delightful weekend via The Beguiled and Two Mules for Sister Sarah. The sun came up and we were still together. What can I say? He treats me like a lady, despite the fact that he only ever sees me sans make-up and in pajamas.

The sad thing is, I'm only half-kidding -- and yes, I will look back on this period of my life (probably via therapy or alcoholism) and wonder why Eastwood was the most dependable man in it. But our affair got me thinking overmuch about today's men, both in and outside of Hollywood. And it didn't help that in the early days of my relationship with Eastwood, we lost the wonderful Paul Newman. I wrote in Cinematical's tribute to him that the world could use more men like Newman – and it is so very true. Where are the men like Newman, Eastwood, Robert Redford, James Garner and Gregory Peck? The men who are rugged, larger than life, and who exude honesty and decency even when acting in so-so films? Who exude it in real life? What the heck happened to the world since these guys arrived on the scene?

categories Cinematical