Midnight Cowboy: Exploring Masculinity and Masculine Gender Performance in 1960s America Through Cinema

The 1960s was a period of exceptional and undeniable change in the United States, a period of revolution and social protests from that ranged from the colossal, such as the civil rights protests, to the smaller, more subtle social changes, that saw people questioning their identity without the stifling of the austere and rigid 1950s. A rise of women in the workplace, and a change in traditional gender roles, meant that ideas of masculinity and masculine identity were changing. Of course, I know these facts and events because of a basic understanding of history, but I feel a greater understanding of this era because of cinema. While I have seen contemporary media that takes place in that period (particularly the series Mad Men), prior to this year I had not seen many films that were actually made during the 60s and reflected the societal and cultural unrest that the period was known for. Perhaps the most interesting and engaging of the films that I had engaged in, was, personally, John Schleisinger’s 1969 film Midnight Cowboy. What I found particularly fascinating about the film, were the ways in which it explored the Conflict between the traditional American masculine ideals in cinema, and the new, more unconventional masculine “heroes” of cinema.

While the 1950s are known as the golden age of Western cinema, the genre endured and continued to strive through the 1960, by which point the Western had cemented itself in American pop culture. The 1960s saw films like Paint Your Wagon and True Grit dominate the box office, while television shows like Bonanza captured the attention of millions of viewers. In fact, in 1969, the same year as Midnight Cowboy was released, Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid was the number one grossing film of the year in the United States., earning over twice as much as the second highest grossing film. I would propose the reason for their success was their cultural resonance. They were films with straightforward narratives and frequently featured binary systems of “good vs evil” morality. They were simple stories in a complicated time, and by extension, so were their heroes. The icon of the western hero, regardless of his role (the cowboy, the sheriff, the outlaw) was synonymous with certain qualities. They were righteous, steadfast, and stoic. They were tough, but honourable. Through action and violence, they saved the day. The Western Hero borrowed from the same pool of traditional American masculine ideals as the hero of the 1960s War Movies. Both genres harkened back to simpler times, free from the moral ambiguities of the 1960s. No one embodied the traditionally masculine hero figure of the time more than John Wayne. John Wayne is, according to NPR writer John Powers, not only an icon of American cinema, but “one of the defining American’s of 20th Century.” Wayne, or The Duke, was synonymous with the American Western, and was known for his larger than life, tough and stoic exterior. Power’s even refers to Wayne as “his own Mount Rushmore” due to his fame and physical stature. John Wayne is, ultimately, a perfect embodiment of the traditionally masculine Western hero, and is the very archetype that Joe Buck is trying to emulate. However, during the 1960s, the All-American, tough guy, hero that Wayne embodied had begun to be challenged by more unconventional male protagonists.

While genre films were incredibly popular during the 1960s, they were given a run for their money by emotionally complex and morally ambiguous, adult dramas that focused on protagonists that were not as cut and dry as the likes of Western or War film heroes. In these films, the protagonists struggle with issues that are more complex than good and evil, instead they struggle with personal and emotional issues, and often must overcome their own interior conflict. These characters problems could not be solved through action, and often their problems were not solved at all. My favourite example of this type of unconventionally Masculine hero figure is that of Benjamin Braddock in the film The Graduate. In 1967, The Graduate even beat out genre films like The Dirty Dozen and You Only Live Twice, to be the number one grossing film in the United States that year. I believe the popularity of films like The Graduate reflected a desire in America to seek out more complicated and complex masculine figures, who must struggle with their own masculine identities.

Ultimately, this conflict of masculinity that can be seen in cinema at the time, is embodied by the character of Joe Buck in the film Midnight Cowboy. A particular moment in the film that highlights this clash when Rizzo accuses Buck’s cowboy persona of being implicitly homosexual. To this, Buck replies: “John Wayne! You wanna tell me he’s a fag? I like the way I look, it makes me feel good.” Here we see two things. Firstly, we see that Joe’s ideal version of masculinity was a traditional and heteronormative one. Specifically, Buck is unable to reconcile the idea that homosexuality and masculinity are not mutually exclusive. Secondly, we see that this traditional image of masculinity that Buck adheres to is just that; an image. It is closer to an aesthetic or a costume, a veneer of traditional masculinity that Buck uses to protect himself from any crisis of masculinity. According to Kevin Floyd in his essay Closing the (Heterosexual) Frontier: “Midnight Cowboy” as National Allegory, the image of the cowboy itself, a traditionally heterosexual figure associated with conservative American values, had begone to become appropriated by urban gay male culture. It could be said that this deconstruction of the iconic, traditionally masculine, Western hero represents a larger societal critique of the perceived notions of masculinity in the 1960s.

So, as Vito Russo asks in his book The Celluloid Closet, “If there is no real difference between the cowboy hero and the faggot on Forty- second Street, then what remains of American masculinity?” I would argue that by queering and therefore deconstructing the ideal of the American Cowboy, there is a more wounded, more conflicted, and perhaps more honest masculinity on display in the struggle of Joe Buck. Joe is at his best in the brief moments he is free from the harmful, toxic ideals of traditional masculinity that he has made his identity, when the veneer of the cowboy cracks and he is able to be true to himself, and to show the care and compassion that he is capable of giving.

Joe is a fairly inept hustler. He seems to lack the ruthlessness or commitment that is required to succeed as sex-worker, and is therefore unable to close deals, as it were. This is played for a joke during Joes first attempt at prostitution, when he ends up giving the client money as a form of compensation for a way of offending her. However, later we see a similar scene that is significantly more downhearted. A more desperate Joe agrees to have oral sex with a young man under the promise of payment, but when the time comes to settle up, the young man confesses that he nothing. In this moment we see the conflict in Joe. He has already shamed himself by engaging in oral sex with another man, something that Hollywood’s cowboy would never do. This, plus his increasing desperation leads him to threaten and almost rob the young man. Here we see the influence of the traditional masculine hero, who succeeds through action and violence. Yet, Buck shows mercy, and based on Voight’s performance, I would argue displays a level of empathy and even shame that is not at all traditional in the Western hero of the time.

A similar scene is featured towards the end of the film, when a now even more desperate Joe must make enough money to get himself and his friend Rizzo out of New York, for fear that the New York Winter will leads to the fatal deterioration of Rizzo’s health. In his desperation, Joe again tries to prostitute himself to a man. While it does not go as planned, this time Buck is not willing to leave without getting what he came for, and he brutally robs and beats the man who hired him. This is the first time Joe is living up to the Western hero he so desperately yearns to be; he uses violence to achieve his goals. However it is clearly presented as something shameful and sad, and lacks the honour and spectacle associated with violence in classic Western Cinema. Ultimately, Joe’s actions were in vain. The “cowboy” does not save the day, and Rizzo dies on their bus journey from New York to Florida. Ultimately, it seems like a tragic ending, and that Joe is doomed to fail due to his reliance on his cowboy persona. Yet, it is on this journey with Rizzo that Buck is able to escape the cowboy identity that has become harmful to him. When Rizzo urinates on himself on the bus, Buck buys new clothes for Rizzo, and for himself, and finally lets go of the act. Without his cowboy outfit, Joe is totally vulnerable, in fact, he looks almost naked. But it is only in this moment, when he sheds the cocoon of the cowboy identity, that Joe can be his honest self, and has a final moment of true connection and self-reflection with his best friend, before he dies. Ultimately, I believe that the conclusion to Joe’s story reflects a recognition in the 1960s of the harmful rigidity and problematic nature of the traditionally masculine roles within American society.

Works Cited

· Schleisinger, John. Midnight Cowboy. United Artists, 1969.

· Powers, John. “John Wayne: Icon Of America’s Booming Confidence.” NPR, 7 Oct. 2011, www.npr.org/2011/10/07/140870373/john-wayne-icon-of-americas-booming-confidence.

· Floyd, Kevin. “Closing the (Heterosexual) Frontier: ‘Midnight Cowboy’ as National Allegory.” Science & Society, vol. 65, no. 1, 2001, pp. 99–130. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/40403886

· Russo, Vito. The Celluloid Closet: Homosexuality in the Movies. Harper & Row, 1987.