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These guys might be old, but that doesn’t mean they can’t still party! Specifically, by heading to Vegas after the last bachelor among the group finally gets engaged.
Starring Michael Douglas, Robert De Niro, Morgan Freeman, Kevin Kline, Mary Steenburgen
Written by Dan Fogelman
Produced by Laurence Mark, Nathan Kahane, Amy Baer, Matt Leonetti
Duration 105 minutes
Here we go: oldies doing youthful things movies. Did Clint Eastwood’s SPACE COWBOYS (2000) popularise the trend? Or was it Burt Lancaster and Kirk Douglas with TOUGH GUYS in 1986?
No, wait, there was GOING IN STYLE back in 1979 (also remade in 2017), which is part of the ‘pensioners pull a caper’ sub-genre – see also KING OF THIEVES, THE HATTON GARDEN JOB, THE LOVE PUNCH, GOLDEN YEARS, etc.
Whichever way you cut it, these films are comparatively rare; the older crowd isn’t traditionally catered to by Hollywood and its four-quadrant obsession. This despite the fact that pensioners go to the movies a lot – I know if I was retired, I'd be going two or three times a day. But the success of CALENDAR GIRLS and then those MARIGOLD HOTEL pictures seemed to make something click in studio boardrooms, and we were suddenly inundated with attempts to snag the ‘grey pound’.
The trend was at
its peak when LAST VEGAS came out in 2013, sandwiched as it was between the two
MARIGOLD films. I’d need to have seen more of these things to accurately
benchmark VEGAS against its peers but, judged on its own merits, it's serviceable enough.
Failing to act their age this time are Michael Douglas (69 at the time of filming), Robert De Niro (70), Morgan Freeman (76), and Kevin Kline ('the baby' at 66 – although none of them are as young as Mary Steenburgen's 60, so they still managed to keep the female love interest younger, as is par for the course).
The film opens by leaning heavily into nostalgia with a quick flashback. You got the kids cast for their resemblance to our stars, crammed into a photo booth for a montage of snaps over the credits. You got the four friends standing up for each other in the face of older greasers, soundtracked to ’50s pop. You got a glimpse of a rivalry between young De Niro and young Douglas.
Then: bam! Fast-forward fifty-eight years. Kline is taking part in water aerobics while quipping about how close to death everyone around him is. Freeman has an overprotective son, or it might have been grandson, that scene was kind of rushed. De Niro falls asleep in front of daytime TV and dodges his Millennial neighbour’s attempts to set him up with her grandmother. Michael Douglas is wildly successful, judging by his Malibu beachside home and bikini-clad 30-something partner (what a shocker: the evidently proud sex-addict Douglas is playing the lothario), and it is he for whom the Vegas stag do that gets the four back together is organised.
The music starts
to sound like David Holmes' score for OCEAN'S ELEVEN; the oldies struggle with
their suitcases, their rented cars and navigating flights of stairs; De Niro kills five minutes
of screentime in post-MEET THE PARENTS curmudgeon mode with his reluctance to join the party; and before you can say "Let's have another joke about old people
living in Florida", we're in Vegas ( ... baby)!
In terms of an actual plot, beyond just stretching an amused-with-itself setup to feature length, only the abovementioned De Niro/Douglas tension really qualifies – and I'll give writer Dan Fogelman credit for not making it turn out to stem from the latter stealing the former’s girl, despite likely pressure from Douglas at the scripting phase. Kline spends the film trying to pick up younger women, having been given a free pass by his wife (until, inevitably his conscience intervenes), and Freeman cuts lose on the games of chance now that he is unshackled from his mollycoddling son/grandson.
Other than that, it's mostly a series of comic set pieces: the gang judging a bikini contest; that curly haired DJ bloke from LMFAO gyrating his crotch in Robert De Niro's face; the oldies blagging their way into VIP areas; dancing to EDM drunk on vodka Red Bulls; Turtle from Entourage being an asshole, then getting his comeuppance when the old guys pretend to be aged Mafia bosses on the warpath. You get the idea.
Best in show actually turns out to be Steenburgen, whose lounge singer/Vegas chaperone contributes a wry and charming energy, although Fogelman could have done with gifting her some dialogue that goes beyond reactionary one-liners.
It's the kind of film that was made for half-watching on a Sunday afternoon. It doesn't demand too much from the viewer, so it would be churlish to demand too much from it.
Three stars out of five.
Valid use of the word ‘last’? Everyone had a good time and successfully completed their story arcs, so that's probably it for trips to the gambling Nirvana in Navada.
What would a movie called FIRST VEGAS be about? Obviously if you go back too far, it’s just a town in the middle of the desert. Probably better to think of the 1960s/70s, the era of Frank Sinatra or DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER: plenty of gambling, but not yet full-on gaudiness.
Previously: THE LAST SUPPER
Next time: LAST FLAG FLYING
Check out my books: Jonathanlastauthor.com
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