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Cheating death by shtick: (l-r) Nicholson
and Freeman in The Bucket List. |
Dead
Men Skipping
By
Shawn Stone
The
Bucket List
Directed
by Rob Reiner
‘It
seemed like the whole film was in the trailer.”
This was the comment of a colleague who had seen a preview
for The Bucket List half a dozen times in the theater,
and, when told I had seen it, wondered if there was any more
to it. The answer is yes and no. There is more emotional detail
and genuine humor in the film than is in the trailer; however,
everything The Bucket List ultimately says about bargaining
with death can be easily summarized in a two-minute preview.
It begins promisingly. Two cancer patients—Carter (Morgan
Freeman), an auto mechanic, and Edward (Jack Nicholson), a
billionaire health-care executive—end up in the same hospital
room. Both are undergoing draconian regimens of chemotherapy;
both have lousy long-term prospects.
Shared misery and laconic wit lead, as in so many previous
buddy movies, to friendship. The tone is appropriately serious,
leavened with humor; to their credit, director Rob Reiner
and screenwriter Justin Zackham don’t get cutesy with the
situation.
The restraint starts to lessen once the film’s eponymous gimmick
kicks in. The two kindred spirits, facing literal deadlines,
make a list of things to do before kicking the bucket. Since
one of them is a billionaire, the film is transformed into
a travelogue as Edward and Carter jet from California to France
to Egypt to Tibet to . . . you get the idea. (There’s no lack
of zany behavior.) There is an interesting dramatic thread
through this, as visiting places he’s only dreamed of seems
to salve four decades of regrets for Carter, an otherwise
a happy family man; but overall the film becomes unnaturally
chipper.
Since the stars are the whole film, it’s worth comparing their
styles. Freeman is one of the canniest film actors alive.
Sometimes he engages, making his costars seem better than
they actually are (think Brad Pitt and Gwyneth Paltrow in
Se7en). Sometimes, as with Jim Carrey in Bruce Almighty,
he lays back and lets the star run amok. Freeman is almost
never bad. As has been the case since The Shining,
however, Nicholson can be brilliant or clownish. He will get
away with exactly what a director will permit; most recently,
he completely (and amusingly) defeated Martin Scorsese with
his tone-deaf antics in The Departed. Here, the two
old lions balance each other out—or maybe it’s just that Nicholson
knows that Freeman can steal a scene with just a deadpan look,
and he kept himself in check. Whatever the reason, the pairing
works.
Two other performers make an impression: Beverly Todd’s performance
as Carter’s wife has depth, and the comic underplaying in
Sean Hayes’ turn as the billionaire’s assistant is invaluable.
To no surprise, the last 20 minutes are a masterfully constructed
emotional crescendo in (mostly) bad taste. Reiner is so skilled
at this stuff, it hurts—really.
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