Letzte Runde

Funerals/memorial services are probably the last place you want to be after a friend's died. The places you hung out at together seem better monuments than a cemetery or a headstone. And maybe that's where the spirit really rests.

LAST ORDERS is a soft-spoken and beautifully poignant film about the drive to scatter the ashes of a departed friend. Detours to pubs, a war memorial, and the field where he and his wife met stirr the memories of the son and three friends left to carry on. Enduring friendship, fidelity, laughter, and support become the themes of their lives together.

And whereas, in an americain film, this could all turn into a sappy series of flashbacks - Bob Hoskins, Helen Mirren, Micheal Caine, and Ray Winstone perform with all the subtle grace of traditional British cinema.

LAST ORDERS is well worth seeing for anyone.

This is a wonderfully warm and human film, perhaps a "guy's movie" as opposed to the many "girls' movies." How can you miss with such a great cast? Helen Mirren. Bob Hoskins. Michael Caine. They do a wonderful job on the story of old friends devastated by the loss of one of their group. If I have one criticism it is the overuse of flashbacks. There even are flashbacks within flashbacks. It's followed easily enough yet the total effect is one of choppiness. But the story is warm, the performances solid and a bonus is the many scenes in and around London. The Brits, unlike Hollywood, do not demand that everything be pretty and that the sun always shine. Helen Mirren is excellent again as a woman past the prime of life. Hollywood would have tarted her up. And there are plenty of grey skies and rainshowers. (Hey, this is England after all} A very fine film that obviously was a labour of love.

It would be hard to imagine a finer troupe of actors than those assembled for the very believable "Last Orders." An ensemble that meshes so well that I was drawn into the screen barely conscious of their real identities and filmography, the story of the long ride of a man's cremated ashes to his selected disposal site, Margate (of all places - garish, timeworn, solidly tired) is gripping.

Through flashbacks to events both recent and as far back as combat in the North African desert in World War II the story of three close friends, the wife of one and their son (and peripherally but not insignificantly their catastrophically mentally retarded daughter) reflects the daily small joys and not great setbacks of very average English people. All the characters here could well be neighbors of the folks in "The Full Monty," people whose days are locally if unspectacularly productive and whose pleasures center in daily convivial meetings at the local pub.

Jack (Michael Caine) faces death more bravely and honestly than he ever did his total rejection of his and his wife's (Helen Mirren) daughter. His disappointment at his son's refusal to join him in the butcher business has been the lot of many. An American version of this tragic rejection would have the son spurn the family business for acting or law or medicine or the Presidency. Jack's son is quite happy to sell cars. A nice touch of English class reality.

Jack's ashes make a number of detours enroute to Margate while his widow pursues her own very necessary and moving journey to personal closure and the prospect of future happiness. At each stop the relations between the four men in the borrowed Mercedes become more interwoven, detailed and - ultimately - important for each as their mission nears accomplishment.

The direction is superb as is the muted, sometimes hazy cinematography. Unfortunately, as is so often the case with even the best cast portraying non-Oxbridge types, some speech is indecipherable. Ray Winstone is the chief malefactor in the mumbles competition but his acting is convincing - a fine actor from whom much can be expected. An elderly woman leaving the theater near me remarked, "This wasn't about a Gosford Park - the film needed subtitles." Yes, we have our class consciousness on the Upper West Side too.

This is a very special film that deserves the widest distribution. It won't get it though, not here. If you can't see it in a theater, rent it when it becomes available.

Graham Swift's brilliant novel serves as the basis of this film, adapted and directed by Fred Schipisi, who gathered some of the best English talent to give life to the characters of the novel in a satisfying film that will not disappoint.

We are taken to a local pub where three old friends have gone to have a drink before embarking on a trip to Margate. When Vic arrives with a box, it's made clear the ashes of another friend is what has prompted the reunion. In flashbacks, we are taken to see Jack's life from the days of WWII and the way the four friends have met and how their lives have been intertwined.

There is also Amy, Jack's widow, who is taking a trip on her own to visit a daughter who has been committed to an institution because she is mentally challenged. Amy is also a key figure in the story because of the love Jack felt for her.

Vince, Jack's son, is driving a late model car to Margate and takes Vic, Ray and Lenny with him. the purpose is to scatter the ashes in the place which Jack wanted to live with Amy, but never got around to it. Vince, is the key figure in the story, which is made clear when he makes a detour to a place that is the pivotal part of this tale.

Michael Caine is Jack, the dead man, who is seen in flashbacks. Bob Hoskins plays Ray. David Hemmings and Tom Courtenay are seen as Lenny and Vic. Helen Merrin is magnificent in a subtle performance as Amy. Ray Winstone is Vince.

Fred Schipisi succeeded in creating the right atmosphere in the adaptation of the novel. His sensitive direction works well and he gets excellent backing from his distinguished cast.

This is acting of the very highest order by a British dream cast. The pace is leisurely, the tone sad, the journey well worth taking. Why no Oscar nominations? This is so un-Hollywood, it's a balm for adults who want to appreciate the cream of British talent.