Main movies guide
Grade: B+
Verdict: Like a chummy, drizzly afternoon in the pub with some of
Britain's best actors.
Details: Starring Michael Caine, Bob Hoskins, Helen Mirren and Tom Courtenay. Directed by Fred Schepisi. 1 hour, 49 minutes. Rated R for language
and sex.
Rate it: Write your own review
Review:
The pub culture of Britain knows a boozy, melancholy, humor-streaked
camaraderie the rest of us don't. However, "Last Orders" — Brit-speak for
last call — gives us a pungent taste of it.
"Last Orders" also could refer to a last request. In this case, it's the
dying wish of Jack (Michael Caine), an East London butcher who's asked his
mates to scatter his ashes at Margate, a coastal dot of a town on the English
Channel.
So, after one last round at the Coach and Horses, with Jack's urn on the
bar beside them, the guys set off on their wobbly memory- and pint-spiked
journey. They are Ray (Bob Hoskins), sturdy and stocky and with a weakness
for the horses; Vic (Tom Courtenay), wryly gentle neighborhood undertaker
who, of all of them perhaps, best understands death and remembrance; Lenny
(David Hemmings), failed boxer long settled into beery belligerence; and
Vince (Ray Winstone), Jack's troubled son, whose conflicted feelings
about his dad are subtly revealed, as are the reasons for them.
Opting out of this mission is Jack's widow, Amy (Helen Mirren, perfectly
capturing the glazed, for-appearances look of the newly widowed). Instead,
she does what she's been doing nearly every week for 50 years: visiting their
daughter, who's been institutionalized almost since birth and whose very
existence drove a wedge between Amy and Jack.
As the men drive through the drizzly countryside, dropping in on a pub
here, a cathedral there, a pub again, they make another kind of journey —
into the past, where, in flashbacks, we see how lifelong friendships and
relationships were forged. We skip from barely six weeks ago — the last time
Jack was at the Coach and Horses — to moments in the '50s and '60s, then as
far back as the '40s, where a raft of fine young actors makes impeccable
stand-ins for elders. (Especially good is JJ Feild, who plays young
Jack.)
Director Fred Schepisi is one of those gifted filmmakers who occasionally
bob onto the surface of our cinema consciousness. Say "Roxanne" or "Six
Degrees of Separation" and everyone goes, oh yes. Say "Fierce Creatures" or
"Mr. Baseball" and everyone goes, huh?
Schepisi does an expert and respectful job of adapting Graham Swift's
Booker Prize-winning novel. of the same name.His film is dusted with grace,
tenderness and a rueful, slightly buzzed hilarity.
The back-and-forth structure can work against the movie's momentum. Much of
the first third is so recessive and roundabout we wonder where it's all
going. Yet the characters grab hold of us as we learn about their good times
and disappointments, their secrets and lies.
The movie's plot honors the so-called Greatest Generation, whose lives
stretch from World War II to the end of a millennium. The movie itself,
however, honors another — the greatest generation of British actors ever to
make their living primarily on film. There's Caine, "Alfie" rogue, now an
aging charmer whose life has been tinged with discontent. Hemmings, the
beautiful boy of "Blowup," now a barrel-chested boyo with flying-buttress
eyebrows. Courtenay, eerily barely aged since glory days in "Billy Liar" and
"Dr. Zhivago."
Hoskins, rock-solid as ever, holds up the side for the next generation. He
trots out that gallant, sad-sack romanticism we saw years ago in "Mona Lisa."
And Winstone, beefy, reluctant robber in "Sexy Beast," carries the torch for
the generation thereafter. He captures duality in Ray;., with. choosing a
Mercedes from his used car lot for the trip can be seen as either a tribute
to his father or proving he did the right thing when he chose to sell cars
rather than take over the family business.
"Last Orders" offers nostalgia laced with lyricism and regret. And it poses
a haunting question: When does a memory become part of the past?
Eleanor Ringel Gillespie, The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
[an error occurred while processing this directive]