On the surface, another star-vehicle comedy milking Boomers getting old. But there's no treacle and smug self-satisfaction at having made it into Californian affluenza, or having "transited to a new house of life" and fantasizing that you've matured past all that silly youthful Sixties stuff. But: at the next level down, it's an unsloppy depiction of daily life for the demographic bulge of Boomer seniors waiting for the day they have to trade independent for assisted living (if they can afford it). And below that, a surprisingly ambitious piece of film art dealing with some material that is not generationally bounded: women's sexual autonomy, and its being put under threat by the experience of "me too", and the brutal reality of abusive male sexual behavior towards women, induced by substance abuse or not, and its being accepted as "it happens". And the lifelong scars that it leaves. And the incompleteness of the 1960-1970s sexual revolution, especially for men. Not a perfect movie by any means, but gutsy filmmaking by a couple industry masters. Jane and Lily mugged just a little too much some of the time, but they deliver the material it looks like they were intending to deliver. Oh, and with all due respect, they look great. Well done.
