But that would be giving it too much credit, because it's hardly a movie at all.
It's more like the pitch for a movie, not a film but a project, the brainstorm of an agent-you know, the astronaut. He's done with Shirley Mac Laine and back to dating young girls.
This plot develops with all the imagination of a flow chart.
Meyer (who also did remakes) knows exactly what each scene is supposed to do and sends loud enough signals that everyone in the audience knows, too.
To celebrate her 70th birthday, here’s a look back at a career full of choice performances: some wacky, others fearless, all Keaton-esque.
(Anyone hoping, as I was, that this might be a sly reference to the most memorable line in the famous 1992 "Seinfeld" episode "The Contest" will be disappointed.) It's tempting to describe this Diane Keaton-Jack Nicholson vehicle about late-in-life love as a bad movie.
) And Keaton is playing Keaton: She still makes do with her ostentatious collection of tics and gestures that will be familiar to anyone who's followed her work, especially her 1970s collaborations with Woody Allen.
She stutters and giggles, she flips her hair and bites her lip, perennially caught between bubbly enthusiasm and gnawing self-doubt.
The problem is that all too often Meyer uses this collective knowledge as an excuse not to have the scene actually what we all know it was supposed to do.
For example, there's the walk-on-the-beach scene where Keaton and Nicholson bond over the long lives they've lived and the travails they've overcome.
He meets Annie--Diane--because he's dating her twentysomething daughter, and they immediately hate each other. So it's a battle of the sexes, because Jack's still charming but offensive and Diane's still pretty but neurotic.