I've never been a big fan of the old Western films, which I know opens me up to the charge of being either un-American, or, as Arnold might say, a "girlie-man." After all, what boy didn't grow up idolizing Clint Eastwood, John Wayne, or, as one who spent very little time in front of the large screen and oodles more before the small, the Lone Ranger? Actually, most of my initial contact with the genre came in the form of Roy Rogers and Gene Autry, mediated as it were, through the medium of "Nick at Night." What boy idolized the singing cowboy, known for his melodies more so than his gunplay? Not this one. Even when I did make it to the theatre to watch the Duke, I couldn't get that Rhinestone cowboy image (or song, for that matter) out of my head.

But what made the Western so popular, at least to a large degree, was the appreciation audiences had for the clearly delineated roles of good and evil. There were the good guys and the bad guys; the law and the outlaws; those who protected their women and children, and those who preyed on the weaker members of society; those who would cheat at poker, and those who stood for truth, justice, and the American way (actually, that may have been the Super Friends) And the audience was rarely left wondering who belonged to which group. The law, presumably too consumed with his duty to uphold righteousness, was never able to get beyond the vanilla fashion of a white, ten gallon hat; whilst the outlaw, though brave enough to track down and then board a moving train using a horse, was not immune to the peer pressured exerted on him by his deviant social circles, and consistently donned a hat colored black. They were easy to spot--the good guys wore white (and, no doubt stayed out of the public's sight from Labor through Memorial Day), and the bad guys wore black (perhaps, black was the black of their day). But all that has changed. In case you haven't been to the movies in the last three of four decades (and if you haven't, be prepared to experience some "sticker shock"), things are not as they once were. For some time now, even in Westerns, fashion is not the infallible indicator of good or bad. Will Smith may not have been the first to grasp this truth, but we would do well to heed his instructions: "The good guys dress in black remember that/ Just in case we ever face to face and make contact." While we may take issue with his grammar (perhaps, "we are ever face to face and make contact" would be better), he is nevertheless on to something in his assessment of Hollywood fashions as they relate to morality.

Actually, the situation is very different still. It has been noted ad nauseam that the clothing demarcation between good and evil in movies has not simply been removed; the very concept for which the colors once stood has been obliterated. Movies, portraying (or was that leading?) post-modern culture, with its aversions to absolutes and the like, rarely pits good versus evil on the silver screen. Instead, we are left with characters that may be sympathetic, but not admirable. We may be able to relate to the leading man, but we would hardly say that his behavior is normative for something called "good." And so we have the Tarantino genre, where goodness is somewhat vague, where the worldview could be generously described as morally casual, and where the "good guys," far from wearing white, are now impossible to separate form the bad with regard to behavior or value. Maybe Quentin didn't start the genre and thus is unworthy to supply its name, but he certainly typifies it.

But to say that there are no differences between characters in movies is to be too simplistic. While post-modernism (and the movies that are born from it) rage, rage against the idea of absolute right and wrong, there are yet vestiges of that old, dying system in spite of their best efforts. There yet appears the good and the bad. There are those who we are to emulate, and those we ought to pity. Characters to applaud, and others to abhor. This new breed of "good" and "bad" has little to do with fashion, and hardly makes an effort to subscribe to some ethical system. Instead, you can pick out the "good guys," not by their behavior or virtue, but by the advice they receive. If you are watching a movie, and a character receives the advice "follow your heart" (and if you are watching a movie, you WILL HEAR THIS ADVICE), you can rest assured that this is the "good guy." This is the one to pull for, the one who the audience should imitate and laud, the one who is the modern day hero. When the crisis moment comes, sit back and listen carefully. If the character is told to hush the other distractions of life, to put away ambition and selfishness and any other encumbrance, and to simply focus in on the quiet meditations of the heart to find the answer, you can know that this is today's version of the white-brimmed hat.

And, of course, the reverse proves equally true. If you want to identify the modern "bad guy," you just have to listen for what's not said. Even the most ardent relativists of our day will never instruct his "bad guy" to listen to his heart. Lex Luther is never told to listen to the still small internal voice when contemplating Superman's demise. You don't hear Hannibal Lecter explain his peculiar diet with the defense, "I was only following my heart." I'm afraid such language would be sacrilege to our world today. Trusting one's heart is the one-size-fits-all, cookie cutter approach to all genres of entertainment, from love song to sitcom. And yet, it also serves to function as the one line of reasoning that everyone can understand, and against which, there is no answer. "Left your wife and kids for your secretary? You're a scoundrel! What's that you say . . . . Your marriage was a loveless affair, and now you are only following your heart. Now that's a different story!"

In an age dearly lacking in absolutes, somehow the entertainment industry has allowed this one to stick around. The "good guys" are always the ones who can be trusted to listen to their hearts. It's kind of ironic, though, when you consider it. In one sense, Hollywood has gotten at least part of it right. The "bad guys" really can't be trusted to listen to their own hearts, 'cause when they do, when people do what is right in their own eyes, things like Judges 19 happen. But Hollywood fails by its inability to do that which it has tried to keep us, the audience, from doing by blurring the lines of right and wrong. Hollywood, like the audience without fashion clues, is at a loss to rightly divide the "good" from the "bad." Instead of agreeing with Paul that "there is none righteous, no not one," we have been told that many would do well to heed the advice of their hearts, which, contra Jeremiah 17:9 is full of truth and easy to understand.

Do you lie awake at night and wonder to whom the Duke passed his baton? If you ask the world, it's there squarely in the palm of the man who trusts his heart. Ask the Bible, and you are left wondering, "Who can ascend the mountain of the Lord?"