Danny Collins

2015, USA, 106 min.

The winning, therapeutic Danny Collins teaches us something: namely, that the best things in a long life are usually the least glamorous. Al Pacino portrays the title character—an amalgam of Neil Diamond and Rod Stewart—who long ago abandoned creative integrity for pop-star prancing and all of its goodies—such as a much-younger fiancée, who doesn’t love him, and a mansion with an elevator. When Danny’s manager and best friend (Christopher Plummer, in another fine performance) gives him his birthday gift—a letter John Lennon wrote to a young, confused Danny—the star is struck. What if he had gotten that letter four decades ago? Read more…

Tender Mercies

1982, Australia, 92 min.

Haggard and used up, Mac Sledge (Robert Duvall, in an Oscar-winning performance) awakens from another bender in a motel in an anonymous stretch of Texas. Unable to pay his bill, he arranges with owner Rosa Lee (Tess Harper), a young, widowed, single mother, to work off his debt. He stays on and straightens out. Mac and Rosa Lee get close. They marry. Life is fine until Mac returns to his scorched past in country music, which includes a resentful ex-wife (Betty Buckley) and an estranged daughter (Ellen Barkin). The theme of second chances in late adulthood is a familiar one to moviegoers, but the difference with Tender Mercies is how director Bruce Beresford and screenwriter Horton Foote don’t indulge in weepy Hollywood theatrics. Small, authentic moments—a glance here, a pause there—accumulate until the last scene, when we realize this is an intensely satisfying film about regular people giving themselves permission to embrace happiness.

I’ll See You in My Dreams

2015, USA, 92 min.

Carol Petersen (Blythe Danner) is a beautiful widow who has carved out a nice, relaxing life for herself in California, complete with a cozy, beautiful home, a tight group of friends and ample free time. However, her life gets a jolt when two very different men vie for her attention: Lloyd (Martin Starr), the laconic and much younger pool guy, and Bill (Sam Elliott), a fellow retiree whose defining characteristics are a push-broom moustache, a giant cigar and bottomless confidence. Director and cowriter Brett Haley uses Carol’s burgeoning romantic life—and an unexpected tragedy—to quietly inspire the audience to go beyond “good enough.” Old age and settling down into its trappings of retirement don’t have to be synonymous with dousing your spark. Danner, Elliott and Starr are all excellent in this understated, resonant comedy-drama that everyone will savor.

Hello, My Name is Doris

2016, USA, 95 min.

Mousy Doris (Sally Field) is forever overlooked, whether it’s at work—which teems with oblivious, trendy youngsters—or at her Staten Island home, where the memory of her late mother and years’ worth of stuff shackle her every step. The trend looks to continue when an attractive, much younger man (Max Greenfield) joins the office, inflaming Doris’ imagination with scenes inspired from the romance novels she devours. However, an encounter with a smiley, second-rate motivational speaker (Peter Gallagher) motivates Doris to get the newcomer’s attention, an endeavor that involves equal amounts of duplicity, heartache and personal growth. Michael Showalter’s comedy-drama succeeds grandly because it refuses to dismiss Doris as an antisocial kook. She’s struggling to explore new territory after decades of trudging in place. Field’s stirring, constantly evolving performance makes us care about Doris, whose growth inspires us to battle our own complacency.

The Visitor

2008, USA, 114 min.

Walter Vale (Richard Jenkins), a middle-aged professor distraught by his wife’s death, travels to New York for a conference. Upon entering his long-deserted apartment, he discovers a young immigrant couple living there. Sensing they are in a difficult situation, Walter lets them stay. Tarek (Haaz Sleiman), a Syrian musician, exposes Walter to hand drumming—and self-expression. Then Tarek is arrested over a misunderstanding and sent to a detention center for illegal immigrants. Walter’s world of cushy isolation is rattled, more so when Tarek’s mother (Hiam Abbass) arrives. The events of September 11, 2001, hang over the narrative. Writer-director Tom McCarthy’s restraint, coupled with Jenkins’ beautifully measured (and Oscar-nominated) performance, elicits a resounding personal reflection on an issue on which many have been numbed. The film makes a subtle plea for tolerance and immigration reform through a middle-aged white man, the demographic with the most to fear.

Calendar Girls

2004, UK/USA, 108 min.

In the small English village of Knapley, the Women’s Institute is the central (and somnolent) activity for elder ladies like the brash Chris (Helen Mirren) and the reserved Annie (Julie Walters). When Annie’s beloved husband succumbs to cancer, Chris comes up with the idea of a fundraiser in his honor—a nude calendar that gently lampoons the traditional, stodgy WI setup. Their lark soon becomes a worldwide sensation, complete with news coverage, photo shoots and a visit to The Tonight Show. Calendar Girls is charming, funny and, best of all, humane. Director Nigel Cole celebrates the beauty of aging without sacrificing his characters, who simply want to celebrate their full bloom of womanhood. Mirren and Walters are terrific in portraying the accidental business partners who realize that their friendship matters more than any temporary fame. Based on a true story.

The Remains of the Day

1993, UK-USA, 134 min.

James Stevens’ (Anthony Hopkins) stoic devotion makes him an exemplary butler. That trait wobbles with the arrival of young, new housekeeper Miss Kenton (Emma Thompson), whose affection for the middle-aged Stevens grows over the years. Director James Ivory’s adaptation of Kazuo Ishiguro’s novel is unsparing in its lack of romanticism—the scenery is all rigid formality; the camerawork, all shadows—making the pair’s evolving relationship deceptively taboo. Stevens is so driven to follow his code of conduct that he sees Kenton as a threat, instead of a possible salvation from his self-imposed stifling. The film reveals that a lifetime of following orders has an unsettling impact. Stevens’ quiet grace may be an asset at dowdy, Nazi-sympathizing Darlington Hall, but it isolates him from the outside world—and his own happiness. Ivory doesn’t announce all of that, but discerning viewers will recognize the very real benefits of listening to our emotions at any age.