Here's a film that seemed to give up caring — from its meaningless title right through to its inevitable "storybook" resolution. In between, some more lackluster stuff, seemingly pulled from discarded soap-opera scripts. But forget the nonsense about people randomly going to jail and surprise grandkids: The "meat" of the story is a torturous, yet wholly predictable, courtship between two mismatched neighbors of a certain age (Michael Douglas and Diane Keaton). Rob Reiner's film is supposed to be lighthearted, a la Nora Ephron or even Nancy Meyers, but the sit-com jokes and worn-out characterizations — Keaton's flibberty, Douglas is an ass — fall flat. Reiner has a small cameo, and his character's bad toupee is the funniest thing in this movie.
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