Reiner's 'Bucket' comes up empty Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman offer the only original elements to the obvious clichés in Reiner's new film "The Bucket List."
Director: Rob Reiner Starring: Jack Nicholson, Morgan Freeman, Sean Hayes Rated PG-13 for language, including a sexual reference.
by Chris Kaltenbach
"The Bucket List" is 98 minutes of mawkish sentiment, a stream of greeting-card moments made palatable only because they come out of the mouths of Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman.
Of course, a plumber's manual would sound interesting if recited by these two men; Nicholson would make it seem subversive, while Freeman would make it seem comforting. But in the end, it would still do nothing more than tell you how to fix a leaky pipe. So it is with this movie; even with all this Hollywood star power, it's still a series of "Happiness is ... " cliches and cuddly moments.
Nicholson and Freeman are Edward Cole and Carter Chambers, two oldish gents who end up in a cancer ward together. Edward is a crusty, no-nonsense billionaire, while Carter is a kindly auto mechanic who can't help but answer questions on Jeopardy! before the contestants do. Naturally, they hit it off right away.
Good thing, too, because they have been given less than a year to live. After a half-hour of character build-up that promises conflict that never materializes, the two decide to make the most of their last days. To do that, they come up with a "bucket list" -- that is, a bunch of things to do before kicking said bucket.
At this point, the movie actually threatens to go somewhere. For Carter, the list is an opportunity to get philosophical -- do someone some good, laugh until it hurts, see something truly grand. But crass ol' Edward has other ideas, most of them to do with living in the moment. He wants to hunt big game, climb a tall mountain, stick it to someone who deserves getting stuck (that last one isn't actually on the list, even though it's in keeping with the man's zeitgeist).
But Justin Zackham's script simply isn't that daring; the only time the film veers toward Edward's side of the balance sheet is when the pair go skydiving and, later, get a tattoo. There's considerable build-up concerning Edward's determination to "kiss the most beautiful girl in the world," if only to see which actress gets to play the part. (Will Michelle Pfeiffer show up in a cameo? Halle Berry? Scarlett Johansson?) But The Bucket List is too high-minded to consider any possibilities beyond the sentimental.
Rob Reiner directs with the overdone earnestness of a preacher insisting that we all become better people. As sure as I am that his heart is in the right place, forgive me for getting a little tired of the lecture; Reiner's The Story of Us (1999), with Bruce Willis and Pfeiffer urging us all to be more understanding lovers, had much the same effect. While ostensibly a comedy, The Bucket List has none of the bite of When Harry Met Sally, or the unexpected wit that helped The American President rise so gloriously above its predictable story line.
The movie has its moments, and some are undeniably affecting. But even those seem artificial, relying far too much on our familiarity with and fondness for the film's stars. And much as we've all come to cherish Freeman and his warmth, wouldn't it be nice to see him challenge those acting muscles again? The Bucket List has all the sincerity of a mass-produced Father's Day card; sure, the sentiment's there, but every dad in the world has heard it a hundred times before.
