GOING IN STYLE: grandpa's last gasp

George Burns' career revival in the mid 1970s was one of the showbiz wonders of the decade. The stars of 30s movies and 40s radio made a surprise smash hit comeback in 1975 with 'The Sunshine Boys' and followed up with 'Oh God,' 'Just You and Me Kid' and 'Oh God Book II' (I'm glossing discreetly over 'Sergeant Pepper's :Lonely Hearts Club Band' - every octogenarian's allowed one career stumble).We have to reach back to the early 1930s and George Arliss run of movies for Warner Bros to find anyone as old as Burns headlining so many mainstream Hollywood productions.

By 1979 Warner Brothers were so confident of 83 year old Burns' star power that when they came to make GOING IN STYLE they not only put his name above the title (and allowed him to act without his toupee) but also cast 78 year old Lee Strasberg and the prematurely old looking Art Carney alongside him as co-stars. Then they filled the supporting cast with not a single recognisable face or name. These three old guys were going to carry the whole movie with no concessions to the expectations of multiplex-goers under 50.
It was a daring move and one that doesn't quite pay off.
GOING IN STYLE shuffles along with all the speed of the old codgers at the heart of its story, making a last gasp effort to prove it's still young at heart. The action's sprightly at first with a certain spring in its step and an obvious sense of determination, but all too soon it runs out of breath, enthusiasm and energy. And then comes the overwhelming urge for pudding and a nap....
Joe (Burns), Al (Carney) and Willie (Strasberg) are three elderly housemates, living out their declining years aimlessly, going to the park everyday to feed the pigeons and wait for the Grim Reaper to tap them on the shoulder. Joe finally summons up the energy to declare he's had enough of this and challenge Al and Willie to join him in robbing a Manhattan bank just for the hell of it.
So far so good.
Then comes act three, and it's soon clear that writer-director Martin Brest has absolutely no idea what to do with his characters after they've pulled off the raid. In place of meaningful forward motion he treats us to a painfully extended sequence in a Las Vegas casino watching Joe and Al playing craps. It just goes on and on without any real purpose. They're clearly having fun but it's definitely a case of "you'd had to be there" and ideally be one of them.
If Brest's intention was for the story's pace mimic the rather more sedate rhythms of senior citizen life then he succeeds admirably, but it comes at a price. The final product is considerably less than satisfying or memorable. Burns is good but he's not great and he's not enough to rescue the film from its own failings.