“A man ought to do what he thinks is right.”
—Hondo Lane
This morning, I watched a movie I hadn’t seen in a long time: 1953’s Hondo starring, of course, John Wayne as the protagonist. The classic movie was dismissed as simply another cowboy flick.
Shocked Face: The critics were wrong.
It’s western with surprising depth and critical thinking on honor, masculinity, self-reliance, and truth-telling. Hondo was a warning shot to our society that willingly traded grit for grievance and moral courage for curated cowardice.
The movie shared three lessons for living like a man: truth, simplicity, and respect. Each has been under cultural siege for decades and may now, for the first time in generations, be reaching a crisis point.
America is desperately in need of people like Hondo Lane.
The Disappearance of Men Like Hondo Lane
When duty called, Hondo didn’t flinch. He rode alone, except for Sam, his dog, facing danger without theatrics and telling hard truths without apology. Hondo didn’t need validation; he needed purpose.
Contrast that with the modern American man, paralyzed by cultural suspicion and medical apathy, and repeatedly told that his very nature is toxic.
So thoroughly have we pathologized masculinity that men are withdrawing from college, delaying adulthood, and seeking solace in online echo chambers offering affirmation, not accountability.
Those ingredients have left us with a generation that is more emotionally vulnerable but less emotionally resilient: crying more, fighting less, posting more, but not stepping forward as leaders. And, worst of all, those men don’t have any idea why they feel so bloody lost.
The answer has been the same for years; we’ve stopped celebrating men like Hondo. Instead, we cancel them.
Telling the Truth Isn’t Cruel, It’s Courageous
In each of his movies, one singular trait John Wayne consistently shares is expressing the unvarnished truth, harshly yet fairly.
There is a pivotal scene in the movie when Hondo breaks the news to Angie Lowe that her husband is dead. There were no soft words; he didn’t try spinning it; he simply said, “he’s dead.”
Mrs. Lowe is angry and hurt, and eventually, she’s grateful because the truth matters, especially when it hurts.
For so long, we’ve grown so accustomed to being lied to under the guise of kindness that when addressed with plainspoken honesty, we don’t know how to react.
News readers, entertainers, and politicians often use euphemisms to conceal their biases. Media outlets often neglect facts, instead relying on tested phrases derived from focus groups. The internet has so many video segments showing liberal hosts parroting the exact words and using the same cadence.
However, Hondo doesn’t play games with language, knowing that truth is the only foundation to build trust and civilization. Everything else? Smoke.
Now, more than ever, we need that kind of honesty, not the cruelty or cynicism, just cleanly delivered truth.
The Dignity of Simplicity
Hondo’s frontier setting wasn’t just atmospheric; it was philosophical. The homestead represented more than a house; it represented civilization, carved out by calloused hands followed by sleepless nights. Angie Lowe raises her boy without fanfare or a platform. Her fence is necessary to keep the coyotes and Apaches out. What Mrs. Lowe needs is food, faith, and someone who can speak the truth when necessary.
Our America is bloated with bureaucracy while soaking in soft comforts, losing sight of that ethic. We outsource resilience to DoorDash and strength to the state. However, when the systems fail, as they inevitably will, we’ll end up feeling helpless.
It is a great irony that, in this age of smartphones and AI, many more people yearn for Angie’s life. Parents want their children to appreciate chores and values over screen time and therapy bills. Instead of white noise machines, they like wood stoves and simplicity, not the fake kind sold in rustic-themed Instagram filters. It’s seeking genuine work, relationships, and a sense of belonging.
Why? Because it gives life meaning, the kind Hondo understands.
Respect Without Victimhood
Hondo is different from most of the westerns of the early 1950s in the way conflict is portrayed: without hatred. The Apache weren’t caricatures; they were adversaries, of course, but also dignified. There was mutual respect between Hondo and the Apache leader, Vittorio, and a clear understanding of their relationship.
We don’t have any of that; we’ve replaced moral realism with moral theater. Every dispute is required to be framed as a case of oppression, and every disagreement is hate. In our social environment, the squeaky wheel gets the grease, where the most vocal voice wins, even if that voice has never done anything in its life.
In the movie, nobody played the role of the victim. When conflict came, Hondo and Angie stood their ground. When the end came, there were no demands for reparations; they simply moved forward.
Imagine, just once, if our culture could do the same.
The Boy Who Learned From a Man
One of the plot threads in the film is the relationship between Hondo and Angie’s son, Johnny. Hondo wasn’t teaching the boy with speeches or lectures, but rather through observation and imitation. Johnny learns from Hondo by the way he moves, talks, and acts. And, when combining everything, he understands what a man is.
Charles Barkley famously told people he wasn’t a role model. Sir Charles, at least, was honest. Today, the lessons our youth learn come from influencers screaming into microphones, teachers pushing pronouns, and politicians redefining manhood into a genderless abstraction.
Theory doesn’t teach boys what it means to be a man; real men do. Real, like Hondo.
Hondo wasn’t perfect or polished, just principled.
Final Thoughts
Watching legacy media, we’re told that America is facing a crisis: financial, political, and institutional. Which, unfortunately, is all true.
But what the drive-bys ignore is the most critical crisis: one of character.
The plot we need has been lost, not because we forgot how to read, but because we’re rejecting stories worth living by. Hondo reminds us of one of the more important stories, not involving lasers, multiverses, or diversity quotas. Simplicity fills the plot: One man, a woman, a child, and the land they’re working hard to hold onto. It’s simple. But it’s enough.
President Trump and his administration are fighting hard to get our country back on track. If he succeeds, it will happen because we’ve started raising more boys like Johnny and honoring the men like Hondo.
Right now, the world is full of bark, sparks, and bluster.
By honoring the idea of Hondo, Angie, and even Vittorio, we will find our way back.
Legacy Media’s Still Trying to Find “Russia Collusion” in a Bowl of Alphabet Soup.
Meanwhile, PJ Media VIP members are reading the real stories. Join us for unfiltered truth, spicy podcasts, and fewer awkward flashbacks to Rachel Maddow. 60% off with code FIGHT.
