…By my count, “Grudge Match” and “Last Vegas” are the umpteenth stories for men, about men and by men in which men do something one last time and with the goal of making that last time epic. And always, in one way or another, these men yearn to stop time, at least for a moment.
…If these Arthurian quests tend to put a jokey face on the core mission — Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman (him again) are two guys living large and legendary while dying of cancer in “The Bucket List” — the implication is nevertheless tinged with pathos: Men crave one last victory before coming to terms with . . . well, something. Death, I guess. Or, if they’re not quite Eastwood’s age, perhaps they’re making peace with routine. Responsibility. Maturity. The old ball and chain that constitutes commitment. They’re hoping that maybe one phenomenally fun night of boozing, flirting, smashing things, driving fast, fighting, vomiting and slapping one another on the back will ease the pain of creaking knees, pouching gut, dimming memory and domestic servitude. Excelsior!
…Or something like that. I wouldn’t know. Because we women, we don’t play like that. I can’t think of one movie pitched to a female audience in which a gaggle of ladies or a pair of best gal pals go wild in an effort to recapture feelings of long-past girlish abandon…On-screen and in real life, women look to the future. We go for the forward-motion makeover, not the backward-glancing do-over. Continue reading “All is Lost”