Harry Sanborn (Jack Nicholson) is a womaniser in his sixties who only dates women half his age. Then he meets his girlfriend’s mother, the successful playwright Erica Barry (Diane Keaton), and discovers a deeper connection that surprises him.
Keanu Reeves is passable but underdeveloped as the doctor who also falls for Keaton. Frances McDormand is oddly underused as Keaton’s sister. And Amanda Peet is the weak link as Keaton’s daughter, with a narrative arc that’s all over the place. For example, she’s distraught to learn that her father (Paul Michael Glaser) intends to remarry, but then this is never mentioned again. Indeed, Glaser’s character seems to have been pretty much edited out of the film – or never written into it in the first place.
In some ways it’s as formulaic as its title, with daft slapstick and several improbable moments. But Nicholson and Keaton are such pros at this kind of thing that they make the most of the flimsy material and it ends up being highly watchable.
No comments:
Post a Comment