GOING IN STYLE
GOING IN STYLE Running time: 1hr 36min Starring: Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman, Alan Arkin, Ann-Margret, John Ortiz, Kenan Thompson, Matt Dillon, Christopher Lloyd, Josh Pais, Maria Dizzia Director: Zach Braff
IT REVOLVES around a bank heist, but the real crime is its waste of acting talent. Updating the premise of a nearly 40-year-old film, screenwriter Theodore Melfi and director Zach Braff, in his third stint at the feature helm, drums up a wan comedy about a trio of former factory workers who take matters into their own hands after their pensions go up in smoke.
Though the effortless charm and goodwill of topliners Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman and especially Alan Arkin keeps things watchable, that’s not enough to redeem the clunky mix of broadstrokes comedy and perfunctory social commentary.
Trading dry humour and pathos for sitcom beats and sentimentality, this adaptation of Martin Brest’s 1979 film turns a quiet, character-driven piece into a run-of-the-mill collection of high jinks, oldster style. The cast is certain to be a draw though live action is no guarantee of more dimension.
Caine plays long-retired plant worker Joe, whose sad shuffle into a cavernous, heartless bank opens the film on a wry note, only to devolve into a cartoonish exchange with a bank officer played by Josh Pais. Joe whiles away his days with former co-workers Willie (Freeman) and Al (Arkin) in diners and New York City parks. Until they lose their pensions to corporate manoeuvres, the trio try not to burden one another with their troubles; in a particularly unconvincing sub-plot, Willie is hiding a dire medical condition.
After witnessing a bank robbery – and being spared by the socially conscious thief – Joe persuades his pals that a heist is the solution to their financial straits. The glancingly topical set-up is quickly lost in the genre mechanics of how to get the job done. Through Joe’s “lowlife” ex-son-in-law (Peter Serafinowicz), the robbers-in-training find a heist consultant (John Ortiz).
Braff and Melfi favour the adorable over the trenchant, and so the nods to brutal economic realities and electoral rage give way to one “ain’t those codgers something” bit after another. (And a key plot point hinges, without the slightest believability, on an exceptionally adorable little girl Annabelle Chow) .
The sweet comic slant might not be a problem if the bits were funnier or had zing, but under Braff ’s utilitarian direction, most of the comedy is strained. He and cinematographer Rodney Charters inject some much-needed visual pizazz with a few montage-y split-screen sequences.
An early scene on a New York park bench is the most overt reference to the earlier film, although it’s unfortunately “enlivened” by Christopher Lloyd’s dementia shtick, which becomes a running joke of sorts. No one in the supporting cast fares well, although Kenan Thompson, as a supermarket manager, has a way with some of the screenplay’s better quips, and gets in and out unscathed. Matt Dillon scowls and talks tough as an FBI agent, while Joey King has little to do in the role of Joe’s granddaughter, and the wonderful Maria Dizzia is utterly wasted as his daughter.
Arkin notably escapes the twinkly routine that substitutes for substance in Caine and Freeman’s roles. He’s also the only convincing blue-collar New Yorker in the bunch. If anyone’s going in style, it’s Arkin’s Al, who snarls and kvetches with elegant directness, and whose talents include cooking and jazz saxophone. He also hooks up with the fetching supermarket employee Annie (Ann-Margret) who’s been coming on to him. Though the screenplay’s idea of flirtatious badinage is Annie cooing over a package of chicken that “breasts are better than thighs”, it’s a kick to see AnnMargret and Arkin side by side.
Significantly, Al, the movie’s most rounded character, isn’t saddled with paper-deep family sub-plots, as are his partners in crime – story threads that are as superficial as most of the proceedings, and as obvious as Rob Simonsen’s button-pushing score.
Directing his first major studio comedy, Braff creates a few bursts of brightness, and allows the occasional darker moment to play out without rushing for a punchline, as when the men calculate how many more years they expect to live. His affection for the three leads is evident. But far more is going on in their gazes and body language than in the tired movie. – Hollywood Reporter