Clint Eastwood isn’t really a curmudgeon, but he (lately) plays one in the movies. Whether he’s a reluctant relic of the Wild West or a grizzled boxing trainer with skeletons in his closet, overtime Eastwood has remolded the “Dirty Harry” archetype into a noble toughness that oftentimes betrays an underlying sensitivity. Bill Munny had it, Frank Dunn had it and in “Gran Torino” — which Eastwood also directed — Walt Kowalski has it.

Just not for the first half of the movie. As Eastwood’s Korean War veteran scowls and growls through the movie with the contempt of a dog chained outside in the cold, the recent death of his wife forces him to retreat to his porch’s ready supply of Pabst Blue Ribbon for any sort of peace. But with a surrounding force of Hmong neighbors, pitiful children and grandchildren, and life in general, Kowalski is often armed to the teeth — carrying around rifles and handguns in his daily activities — and ready let everyone around him know he’s still fighting his own war.

After the neighbors’ son Thao is pressured to steal his ’72 Gran Torino by a local gang as initiation, Kowalski chases him out and later breaks up their resulting rumble. But his inadvertent protection of Thao and his no-nonsense sister Sue in separate standoffs with local gangs earns him the respect and gifts of his Hmong neighbors. Although he’s essentially a dictionary of Asian slurs and mocks every aspect of his neighbors’ life, he warms up to Sue and agrees to have Thao atone for his theft by working for him. Soon enough, the working relationship morphs into a father-son relationship, and Walt begins to allow his neighbors into his space and his heart. But when the Hmong gang tries to tear apart his newfound family, the soldier has to decide whether to reenlist.

Unlike Eastwood’s previous movies such as “Mystic River” and “Million Dollar Baby,” “Gran Torino” is not an epic. The fact that the majority of the movie takes place in and around two houses in Michigan makes this much clear.

And so do the characters. Thao is likeable enough, but the relationships and cultural norms between Hmong family members aren’t explored nearly enough to explain his timidity or motivation. Sue, on the other hand, works as a perfect foil to Eastwood’s initially racist and close-minded perspective.

Everyone else is largely wasted space and plot devices. Father Janovich (played by relative newcomer Christopher Carley) only exists as a human diary for Kowalski to unfurl his conscience onto and seems to have no real personality or motivation himself. Walt’s son and grandchildren may serve as some sort of commentary on the insensitivity and oblivious nature of suburbia, but it’s often confusing why the movie ever shifts to their point of view — his family is so contemptible as to allow the audience to understand every octogenarian’s complaint of midriffs and “those damn kids.”

The acting from the supporting cast is equally lackluster, and the dialogue occasionally feels contrived — the volley of insults and ribbing between Walt and his barber is initially hilarious but feels forced when Thao is injected into the mix for comic relief.

“Gran Torino” has its flaws and certainly isn’t a masterpiece. But, strangely enough, it’s one of the more emotionally affecting and well-crafted films of the year. And all of it rests on Eastwood’s shoulders — as he delivers a perfect performance on-screen and behind the camera.

Any other old man yelling “Get off my lawn” sounds like a stereotype, whereas Eastwood turns it into a expression of Kowalski’s intensely defensive and guarded personality. Kowalski isn’t just another grumpy old man, he’s the last vestige of an older society trying to cope with a patchwork life. And with Eastwood’s incredibly convincing performance, the relationship he forms with Thao and his family seem all the more genuine.

But it’s Eastwood’s directorial decisions that keep the film from stagnating or proselytizing. Eastwood reveals enough of Kowalski’s past to explain his persona but never leaves him on the porch to muse on his life. The movie pivots from character development to conflict to reaction to action and follows a perfect story arc.

And that’s the beauty of “Gran Torino” — Eastwood is doing nothing more than telling a very compelling short story about living in a time that doesn’t have a place for you and still finding a reason to live. And while some may find the rather shallow philosophical depths a bit problematic, this film isn’t meant to solve existential problems — just to feel comfortable in it’s own narrative skin. And moviegoers looking for a good time will find a curmudgeon makes for a pretty good story.

3 1/2 stars out of 5.