As you know, I’m a man of class. Nay, a man of the arts. You may think it’s fruity or snobby, but I couldn’t give a jib, because art is fabulous and liking it makes me better. So let’s have a bit of culture for once and talk about famous works of art that inspire heroism inside the deepest nether regions of our souls.

This is about stirring images. The kind that make you want to stand proud and defend your turf against the invading enemy. The kind that warm you with pride as you gaze upon them. The shores of Dunkirk. Custers last stand. The end of 300 when King Leonidas gets a back alley acupuncture from 1,000 Persian arrows. These acts of human triumph over adversity and sheer stubborn refusal to run from certain death are revered for generations because of the hope they evoke in all of us. No matter how bad it gets, no matter how certain our deaths, we can always stand proud in the knowledge that our heroism will not be forgotten. We will not go quietly into the night. Our stories shall live on. Etc, etc.

These five pieces of art warm my pride gland. They conjure the urge to be a better person. They inspire me to stand fast in the face of oblivion. They make me want nothing more than to stand atop a mountain, hair blowing back in the wind, and triumphantly shout the name of my mortal enemy, striking fear into all and sundry. They’re that heroic.

Let’s get arty.

The Predator Handshake, by Schwarzenegger & Weathers




This piece has always been an inspiration to me. I recall the first time I saw it. It was New Years Eve in the early 90’s, which for my family usually meant an evening together in front of the idiot box, nibbles on the coffee table, and a couple of cheeky wine and lemonades in honour of the special occasion. To hell with the law. And ever since I saw it, I knew I wanted to be badass when I grew up.

The piece is deceptively deep. It just looks like two military types being boorish. A couple of steroid freaks. Two muscle bound morons expressing themselves the only way they know how. And I get that, I mean, there’s enough testosterone in this picture to make every woman in the country look like Fatima Whitbread. But while some will see nothing but two macho idiots clasping hands, I see more. I look beneath. I see what they were trying to show us in this moment.

This isn’t just a handshake between two men. This is the embrace of two comrades, and rivals. Each wants to be thought of as the better man. And as they grip palms, and interlock fingers, and vie for supremacy, each knows that they would defend the other to the death in combat. Years of friendly rivalry and devotion to the unit are expressed succinctly in one bicep rumbling, machizmo dripping handshake.

The irony of the piece is that Weathers would later lose this arm in battle with a stealth equipped, laser firing alien hunter. Fortunately, Schwarzenegger would avenge his death using his arms to build a series of kick ass traps to mortally wound the savage beast, and honour his fallen friend.

Bravo, I salute thee.

The Crying Man, by Sutherland



Crying is rarely a sign of heroism, which is what makes this work of art even more compelling. For on the surface one could simply assume we’re looking at a weak man who has had a bad day, or any emo brat who has just had their heart broken for the ninth time this month, but the more artistic among us can read between the lines, and delve a little deeper into the layers of torture hidden within this emotional visage.

What Sutherland has produced here is a work of tragic beauty. The breaking point of a hero who has suppressed his emotions in order to save the lives of others completing a mission of the highest importance. He has sacrificed his humanity in order to protect others, and in the minute of his glory, the apex of his triumph, he can finally be himself and allows the days grievances to come out all at once in a moment of private emotion. It’s a bittersweet piece; the moment of release for a man who can’t enjoy a victory because it’s tainted by the soul crushing actions he had to undertake to achieve it.

May you one day find peace, Mr Bauer, be it in this life or the next.

Touching The Sky, by Carrey



This is a piece that says much about how humanity can triumph over insurmountable odds and what we take for granted in our daily lives. It’s not just a picture of a man, touching a wall crudely painted to resemble the sky. It’s a picture of a man who has just shattered the glass ceiling of his world, broken free, and he’s touching the wall of his prison for the first time; a last look at the bonds that have held him all his life before he goes out and sees the sky for the first time.

It’s a poignant moment for a remarkable man. He’s an explorer at heart, and the prison that has been built for him, however amiable it may have been, cannot hold him for he has a yearning for exploration that cannot be tamed by smoke and mirrors. And in this moment we see a second, however fleeting, of hesitation. He’s standing on the cusp of what could be the greatest moment of his life. For thirty years this world is all he’s known. It would be easy to stay in the processed life knowing that you’d never be in harms way, and that there’d always be someone looking out for you. But he has the courage to walk out, into a new life, into the unknown, and to bring his oppressors to their knees through the sheer will and determination of his being.

Godspeed, Truman.

Leading By Example, by Pullman



You’d be forgiven for casting a quick eye across this portrait and dismissing it as just another American soldier, another anti-war message in the form of a battle worn warrior. But this is not just an American soldier conflicted about carpet bombing some warehouse in Iraq. This is the President of the United States, ready to fight and die alongside his fellow troops.

Not many rulers lead by example. It’s easy to sit in your heavily guarded operations centre and bark orders into telephones. It’s easy to lead good men to their deaths in the name of political agenda. But when faced with the greatest threat humanity had ever seen, the President gave a rousing speech before climbing into a fighter jet to fight the enemy side by side with fighter pilots and crop sprayers alike.

This is the portrait of a man who knew he had the right to stay in office and allow other people to risk their lives in the name of survival. A man who nobody would have thought less of had he led his troops from the sidelines. But he risked it all to stand proud with the men who had served under his rule, and his courage in the face of sure annhilation may have just been what turned the tide and saved us from extinction.

On that day it wasn’t just Independence Day for Americans. It was Independence Day for the humans all across the globe. And despite not hailing from the US of A, I am proud to call this man, “Mr. President”.

The Sacrificial Thumb, by Schwarzenegger



Another classic piece by Schwarzenegger.

This is the quintessential image of sacrifice. In the struggle for the fate of humanity against a race of emotionless machines, it was one of our enemy who showed the greatest humanity by sacrificing himself for the good of the innocent. After the defeat of the machine agent T-1000, all that was needed to end the war and change future-history to stop the rise of the machine race was for every trace of them to be destroyed - that meant the T-800, agent of humanity would have to be destroyed too.

This selfless act was an inspiration to all of us; a machine displaying the kind of honour that makes us wish our relationship with his kind had never soured; a gesture of overwhelming heroism and sacrifice. For the good of humanity he allowed himself to be destroyed, and after a tearful goodbye with his battle weary comrades, he straddled a chain and allowed himself to be lowered into molten steel; a symbolic returning to the metaphorical primordial ooze that spawned him.

As a last second gesture of good will, he raised his thumb to his teary friends - a sign of his certainty that this was the only way to ensure the mistakes of the future would never come to pass. The flames lapping around his cool leather jacket were a grim metaphor for the heart warming heroism of his actions set against the cold, melancholic dagger thrust into the hearts of his friends by his sacrifice. A tragic hero.

And so this brings us to the end of our journey into the world of heroic art. We’ve had some laughs. We’ve had some tears. Friendships were made, and friends were lost. But each of these pieces is a window into the soul of great people (and a robot) who have shown us that all of us, no matter who we are, be it commando, agent, ruler, insurance salesman, or robot, have the capacity to do heroic things, no matter what the odds.

Thanks for reading.