Our Souls At Night

Nothing quite caps off a Friday night out with your parents than watching a movie on Netflix. Yes, I realize how absurd that statement sounds, but the fact remains a Red Lobster Margarita tastes phenomenal regardless of who sits beside you in the booth. Anyways, two weeks prior we watched Barefoot in the Park (1967) starring Jane Fonda and Robert Redford, in preparation for the release of the duos the FOURTH film together Our Souls At Night (2017).

The film tells the story of two neighboring widows who decide to begin sleeping in the same bed at night to combat the loneliness of heartbreak and aging. Though they have lived within yards of each other for years, Louis Waters and Addie Moore (Redford and Fonda respectfully) hardly know each other. One thing that instantly intrigued me as I sipped a Corona on my couch and watched Redford eat a late-night frozen dinner in the opening scene was how quickly the inciting incident of the film takes place. The 101 minute running time takes no reservations for the sake of subtly. Addie shows up at his doorstep within the first ten minutes and makes him a proposition of a lifetime, sort of.

We don't always need to know the exact psychological inner workings of our protagonist minds. Some ideas are so alluringly fascinating that they don't need justification. What I am saying is, I'm glad we don't spend 15 minutes at the beginning of the film with some schmaltzy montage consisting of Louis and Addie sleeping alone and being, well lonely. Instead, we get right to the good stuff, the proposition of companionship. We shouldn't learn too much about either of them before the arrangement begins, because as the film progresses we see that it is during key scenes of them preparing for bed, that the characters begin revealing their true inner-selves to us and, of course, to each other.

My dad commented early on during the film that I found quite striking, even though it was something I was already quite aware of as a film student. He noted that sometimes in film, all you need is a really good premise, a story no one else has thought of yet. That can frequently be enough to hook an audience. Of course, as a film student, I also know that you can't rely on the premise alone. A movie about two people who sleep together but don't actually SLEEP together (I mean sex, how's that for subtly?) could easily be dreary, tear-jerking tissue waster. Our Souls at Night avoids this, however. Its most considerable saving grace being the immaculate chemistry between its two iconic leads. Redford's reserved timid-ness in his portrayal of Louis harkens back to his performance as Hubble in The Way We Were (1973). Fonda is more of a minx, creating a character who takes a bit more time to figure out, but her hidden depths are worth the wait thanks to the actress's penchant for balancing brash humor with tender emotion. Her eyes strain with guilt tinged tears as she recalls the death of her young daughter years prior in a particularly memorable scene.

The film is a slow boil, allowing the strangers to evolve into lovers in an unforced organic manner that is rare of most commercial films in today's world. Their first kiss isn't even shared until well past the film's halfway mark. While this romantic turn hardly comes as a surprise, its inevitability feels somewhat less gimmicky by the film's delicate handling of their cautiously bred intimacy. One fault of the film that should be noted is its waste of actress Judy Greer in only a single scene as Redford's daughter. Why such a talented actress continues to be given such thankless roles as this one is beyond me, it's good time this stops. How can we bring about the next generation of Fonda's and Redford's when talented actors and actresses who've put the work in are given so little to show for it?

Overall the film is a compelling romance, reminding us to appreciate that stories featuring older couples can be just as emotionally engaging and sexy as ones featuring those atop People's Sexiest Person Alive List. Fonda and Redford are worthy of quality work such as this, and where it falters, they bring it back to par with their seasoned expertise and acting wisdom. If they did another twenty films together, I'd watch each one with gleeful adulation at Old Hollywood still showing the New Kids how it's done best, with care.