“...there 's a bluebird in my heart that, wants to get out, but I pour whiskey on him and inhale, cigarette smoke, and the whores and the bartenders, and the grocery clerks, never know that, he 's. in there....” As indicated by the above excerpt from his poem Bluebird, poet Charles Bukowski built a name for himself through his ability to deprive himself of the basic human need of confiding, revealing and simply being emotionally transparent. For many, erecting a facade of ruggedness and apathy can protect what may be delicate inside—it’s a common defense mechanism, which especially rang true for Bukowski, who suffered from abuse at the hand of his father during his childhood. As a result, Bukowski fixated himself on concocting a larger than life caricature of himself as someone who was extremely tough and devoid of any “soft” emotions over his career. The unwillingness to be vulnerable depicted in his poems can often be found in film with the anti-hero archetype. From Gosling’s Driver, to Gibson’s (and Hardy’s) Mad Max, DeNiro’s Travis Bickle and now Roland Møller’s “Danny,” the calloused exterior of broken protagonists continue to prevail as one of the most alluring character molds of any story—literature or film.