Okay, we've all wondered about it. Denver Tank Murdoch vs. Jack Wilson. Think how many be-braed dilettante gold diggers that fight would've brought out in their upside-down planes. Of course, the way the movies set it up, Jack is much tougher. He's in the sequel. He knows kung fu or something. He breaks Philo's arm and they destroy a barn. The movie seems to say that Jack is in the big leagues, working for the wealthy, whereas Tank is so working class that his idea of fame seems to be fighting in, well, what is that? A tire yard? So, yeah, Jack Wilson is in the bigs. Tank is small-time. But I think that's far too easy.
Remember in "Every Which Way But Loose" when Lynn is spinning the ribald tale of Tank and the Debutante? Does that seem like the washed-up, addled Tank we see, the blank look of fear in his eyes as he realizes that this could be the one where he finally loses? No! That was a story of young Tank, a Tank who hadn't been used up by his friends. Tank may be past his prime, but he must be one hell of a fighter to have gotten as far as he has. The Tank Murdoch we meet isn't much. But he takes several of Philo's best punches right to his face and is standing there fricking grinning. And that's not nothing. For sure, I probably couldn't have taken one of Philo's punches. Hell, Philo can lift a goddman car. You ever tried that?
And let's not forget the reason we love EWWBL, it's not as dumb as it would seem to those critics who dismiss it as Clint's monkey movie. Tank Murdoch was Philo. Philo sees himself becoming Tank. That's why he allows himself to lose. In losing, Philo avoids the trap in which Tank is ensnared.
I woudl liken Tank to the older Elvis, surrounded by leeches (I'm looking at YOU, Joe Esposito! Get off your bicycle built for two and be your own man!), isolated by his fame, but still a force to be reckoned with. Tank may have finally met his match in Philo, but any of those other guys Philo fought? I bet Tank would've taken them apart. Likewise, Elvis had a lot of good music left in him. Tank and Elvis probably could've hung out.
As much as EWWBL is the tale of Philo doing exactly the first thing we hear, he's "the kind of man who does not believe in strings" -- as much as that, EWWBL is a requiem for Denver Tank Murdoch. Tank has lived his life hard, becoming a legend, fighting his way though all comers weekend after weekend. Punch drunk Tank, almost a joke by the time we meet him, lived for wine, women, and song and, we must infer, did so in a way that would've made us blush. None of my buddies have ever asked me to hide in the trunk while they made love to a debutante! I don't think anyone I know has ever gotten anywhere near a debutante except to park their cars.
Remember that guy in the trunk in the debutante story? The one Orville muses may still be in that trunk? He's not in that trunk. Tank beats the shit out of him for laughing. Hell, he's probably the guy in the red pants.
No, I think if pretty boy Jack and his fancy moves were set against Tank in his heyday, Jack would get his ass handed to him. Quickly. No question.
So, here's a drink to the older Tank! Tank, you're not a bad guy and we love you. Do you like Bruce Springsteen, Tank? Do you know the song, "The Hitter"? When someone finally beat you Tank, did you have anywhere to go? Did you have savings? Did one of your buddies get you a job selling cars? Or did you find yourself living in that tire yard? Would you paraphrase Bruce for us, Tank?
Tonight in the shipyard a man draws a circle in the dirt
I move to the center and I take off my shirt
I study him for the cuts, the scars, the pain,
Man, nor time can erase
I move hard to the left and I strike to the face
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