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OTHER REVIEWS: Gosford
Park Innocence Ratcatcher This Is
My Father |
Last Orders  BY: DAVID PERRY Every old English pub has a collection of regulars who make it their home. In America the closest thing is the Cheers gang, but for Englishmen the sight of a pack of friends at every visit to the local tavern is commonplace. But, as is the case with everything involving humans, the party cannot last forever -- they can enjoy their time living, but there's always the albatross of death hanging over their revelry. Nevertheless, Fred Schipisi's Last Orders understands that when that time comes -- the death of one of those ale-guzzling locals -- these are friends who have shared too much to simply sit around and mourn. Like the four lovable main protagonists in the film, their collective friendship and history has brought too much to one another for a death to end the happiness each has given to the rest. The film opens as three of the friends assemble in the Coach and Horses Pub, their home away from home. Ray (Hoskins), a self-employed horse gambler, has brought the ashes of Jack (Caine), a family-employed butcher; waiting for the arrival of Ray and the remains of Jack are Vic (Courtenay), a funeral director, and Lenny (Hemmings), a fruit and vegetable stand owner. Moments after their arrival, Jack's son Vince (Winstone) arrives in a Mercedes out of the showroom from the car dealership he owns. They have come together to take care of a final wish from their departed friend: Jack wanted his ashes thrown into the gulf off of Margate, the place he had long intended on retiring to. His reasoning for choosing the area, as well as the relationships that brought everyone together in the first place become clear as Schipisi's screenplay from the Graham Swift novel continues to unravel throughout Last Orders. Tackling Last Orders, novel or movie, is like jumping constantly crossing lives of six people -- Jack, Vic, Ray, Lenny, Vince, and Amy (Mirren), Jack's wife. There's melodrama, but Schipisi has such regard for his characters that even in a mere 109 minutes he won't unveil his information is histrionic surprise packages. Calling Last Orders a male weepie isn't a misnomer, but equating it to anything like a soap opera would not do it justice. Most of the backstory is told through flashbacks, where the audience is accosted with an odd collection of actors meant to represent our modern characters (it is a tough problem for a filmmaker working with flashbacks of actors like these considering that most of the audience knows exactly what Tom Courtenay, Michael Caine, and David Hemmings looked like thirty years ago). The lion's share of the flashbacks involve younger versions of Jack (Feild), Amy (Reilly), and Vince (McCole) as their family went through various tragedies ranging from a mentally retarded daughter to the dispatch of Jack to the British fighting in Egypt over the Suez Canal, where he happens to meet Ray. Much has been made of the WWII generation in America, the last time when the country was really aligned in a cause to fight. The Falklands notwithstanding, the British generation represented here is similar to "the greatest generation" considering that they fought in what was England's final dash at military glory (whether or not you can consider the Suez Canal failure the British equivalent of America's Vietnam is definitely up for debate). Much of what these men have been through -- from war to their day-to-day lives -- are clear in the actors' odd gaits, deep wrinkles, and loaded eyes. Beyond merely the outstanding talent brought to the screen, Shaheen Baig and Patsy Pollock's casting for the film bring some of the best choices to come to the screen in recent years. And what a cast it is: a double feature of Last Orders and Gosford Park could be considered the British actor's all-star game with Albert Finney out for an injury or something. That metaphor holding true, deciding upon a MVP for simply this film would be taxing. All six of the performers give commanding work that serves as testament as to why they have withstood the tests of filmmaking time. Only Ms. Mirren's work on Gosford Park bears a resemblance to what grand acting is on the screen here. If hard pressed, I'd call Mr. Courtenay the best hitter, if only because he has the virtues of a grand theatre actor underplaying his role for the betterment of his castmates. Watching Last Orders is a mysterious treat. It is
a movie about death and the way people will forever miss those they loved. But, in the
end, the audience is reminded that through those fond memories -- and, occasionally, these
great movies -- we can have something to laugh at as we take the pilgrimage to our final
resting place. |
