Stand Up Guys routinely shifts from endearing tale of waning mobility and friendship to fodder, unafraid of being serious without breaking tension with dick-, boner pill-, priapism-peppered jokes. Christopher Walken and Al Pacino are perfectly cast as Doc and Val, respectively. On screen, both actors have embraced their caricaturized selves, distancing our recognition of them as Michael Corleone or Nick from Deer Hunter fame. Walken comes across as a thespian, tired and irascible, reading from cue cards. (If the above graphic is any indication, Walken is really in this film as a favor, for a paycheck, or because of extortion. His stare and ennui bespeaks constipation and confusion.) Pacino is less Pacinoey than in recent films, but still breaks his sunken-eye, gravelly voiced charm with the occasional, voluminous outburst, mostly channeled into variations about how he could “fuckin party!”
I can’t say I blame his energy. He did just get released from prison after serving 28 years for murder. We’re not sure if he actually killed the man or if he was framed as payback from an angry mob boss whose son was killed on Val’s watch. We do know that Val is quiet experienced in the killing department regardless; he’s also quick with a gun and likes his Russian prostitutes. Again, who could blame him?
The meat of Stand Up Guys is its attempted look at responsibility. Whether or not Val was the assassin, he serves his time quietly; he doesn’t snitch; he accepts that his choices tied him to the mob, and those put him in this predicament. Doc maintains a friendship with Val. He picks him up from jail. He takes him to his place – a perfect scenario for jokes about anachronisms, of which this film has a seemingly endless supply. And Doc knows that he’s tasked with killing Val. He was ordered to do so twenty-eight years prior. If he doesn’t, mob boss Claphands (Mark Margolis) will kill both him and his granddaughter Alex.
For much of the time, we’re reminded that the past persists to haunt an individual, and his outer appearance speaks little to those who watch him. On his first night of freedom, Val is shot down by a trio of lovely young women, fails to perform with a hooker – until he takes a handful of erectile-dysfunction tablets — and comes across as a grouchy old man.
The major problem with this film – aside from its liberal use of stereotypes and clichés – is that it tries to be a Dramedy, but its dramatic aspects aren’t developed enough to make us care about the conflict between responsibility and friendship. As for the comedy, it’s all over the place. There is one chuckle-worthy moment, but the try to elicit laughs via sex-based humor. It’s not for the older audience, and it’s too transparent and predictable for the younger one.
We know Val wants to party – because he tells us four times in the first twenty minutes. They make three trips to the whorehouse, but this is less funny than perfunctory. Hirsch (Alan Arkin), a former driver from the mob whom they spring from a retirement home, is briefly amusing, but the antics they conspire are foreseeable and sloppily written. They spend too much time on separate discussions about new-fangled car starters and an incredible car chase than they do on character development. At times, this film feels more like a mafia-tinted version of The Bucket List – or Scent of a Woman – or maybe even Of Mice and Men. I’m just not sure which of our triad would be Lenny.
The strongest part of Stand Up Guys is its ending. It provides a solid last hurrah for our characters, but it makes me wonder how many other opportunities Walken and Pacino will be granted. Perhaps their too far beyond famous to really care about their roles. Perhaps they now just perform for fun. This endeavor certainly won’t tarnish their careers, but it certainly augurs distance between who they were and who they are.
