I’ve watched a DVD screener of Rob Reiner‘s The Bucket List (Warner Bros., 12.25) three times over the last week and a half — once for my own reasons, and the other two times to show it to friends. Nobody liked it very much. A director friend called it “a lazy, complacent old man’s film.” That’s pretty close to my reaction. It’s a mild-mannered movie about dying from cancer — not awful or painful but nothing all that special.
Fox 411’s Roger Friedman recently called it the “downer movie of the year.” Not really — it just has tired blood.
I have to get back on the Mass Pike again and head for Syracuse, but allow me to impart two things before leaving. One, the above shot is an fair approximation of my own facial expression as I watched The Bucket List. And two, here’s the best line in the entire film — spoken by a bed-ridden Jack Nicholson to a bed-ridden Morgan Freeman right after Freeman’s “wife” has left their joint hospital room.