There are three themes running through this Neil Simon comedy: (1) Jokes about the forgetful condition and other deficits of old people, (2) Resentment between two Jewish ex-vaudevillians (Matthau and Burns), and (3) The problems inherent in organizing a presentation of their famous medical sketch for a reunion on a television special on the history of comedy.
They're all reasonably well handled. It's like "The Odd Couple" forty years on, only this time with a mediator, Richard Benjamin as Matthau's agent/nephew, the harried young man with the chest pains.
Both men may be frail and scatterbrained but Burns is at least sane, while Matthau's character is a bitter curmudgeon filled with dislike and sometimes outright contempt for everyone, even those who try to help him. He can be dangerously out of control too, hobbling around after Burns with a kitchen knife, crashing into the furniture.
It's not as funny as "The Odd Couple" though, not in the same way at any rate. Some of the gags seem a little forced and others, not forced, aren't especially amusing. Example: Benjamin opens the door when Burns knocks and says, "Oh, how are you, Mr. Lewis? Come in." And Burns replies, "How are you, I'm Al Lewis." That's funny? The same kind of ritualistic exchange is derailed over and over.
The vaudeville sketch we see has gags that are so crusty with age that it's difficult to imagine that people once paid to see them. And it ends with a deus ex heart attack, which signals not only a collapse of the body but of the writer's imagination.
Still, Simon hasn't lost his touch with verbal gags. "I'm okay," Burns tells Matthau at their first meeting in years. "The blood still circulates. It doesn't circulate EVERYWHERE but it circulates." Matthau gets off this impossible tirade when Burns visits him in New York and demands that, in the sketch, Matthau use the phrase "Come in," instead of "Enter." "You know the trouble with you? You're out of touch. I look out this window and I see everything. I see people scrounging, running. I see traffic. I see car crashes. I see murders. I see fighting. I see jumpers off roofs! You sit on your porch and you see a lawnmower. You see the milkman!" Burns: "And that's why you won't say 'Come in'?"
Matthau's minor cardiac spasm leads to a warmer, though ironic, conclusion. Matthau is finally convinced that he should set up his life in a new setting, a home for retired actors in New Jersey. He's convalescing at home and is visited by Burns, who informs him that, now that his (Burns') daughter is going to have a baby, he's going to leave her house and live in a home for retired actors in New Brunswick, New Jersey. "I hope you'll come visit me," he says. "You can count on it," Matthau replies, burying his head under the covers.
It has more sentiment than "The Odd Couple" and its comedy, except for Matthau's outright lunacy, is less barbed. Matthau is great as he slouches around his cluttered New York apartment in a bathrobe, mumbling to himself.
You'll probably enjoy it, and thank God Matthau's character doesn't die.
They're all reasonably well handled. It's like "The Odd Couple" forty years on, only this time with a mediator, Richard Benjamin as Matthau's agent/nephew, the harried young man with the chest pains.
Both men may be frail and scatterbrained but Burns is at least sane, while Matthau's character is a bitter curmudgeon filled with dislike and sometimes outright contempt for everyone, even those who try to help him. He can be dangerously out of control too, hobbling around after Burns with a kitchen knife, crashing into the furniture.
It's not as funny as "The Odd Couple" though, not in the same way at any rate. Some of the gags seem a little forced and others, not forced, aren't especially amusing. Example: Benjamin opens the door when Burns knocks and says, "Oh, how are you, Mr. Lewis? Come in." And Burns replies, "How are you, I'm Al Lewis." That's funny? The same kind of ritualistic exchange is derailed over and over.
The vaudeville sketch we see has gags that are so crusty with age that it's difficult to imagine that people once paid to see them. And it ends with a deus ex heart attack, which signals not only a collapse of the body but of the writer's imagination.
Still, Simon hasn't lost his touch with verbal gags. "I'm okay," Burns tells Matthau at their first meeting in years. "The blood still circulates. It doesn't circulate EVERYWHERE but it circulates." Matthau gets off this impossible tirade when Burns visits him in New York and demands that, in the sketch, Matthau use the phrase "Come in," instead of "Enter." "You know the trouble with you? You're out of touch. I look out this window and I see everything. I see people scrounging, running. I see traffic. I see car crashes. I see murders. I see fighting. I see jumpers off roofs! You sit on your porch and you see a lawnmower. You see the milkman!" Burns: "And that's why you won't say 'Come in'?"
Matthau's minor cardiac spasm leads to a warmer, though ironic, conclusion. Matthau is finally convinced that he should set up his life in a new setting, a home for retired actors in New Jersey. He's convalescing at home and is visited by Burns, who informs him that, now that his (Burns') daughter is going to have a baby, he's going to leave her house and live in a home for retired actors in New Brunswick, New Jersey. "I hope you'll come visit me," he says. "You can count on it," Matthau replies, burying his head under the covers.
It has more sentiment than "The Odd Couple" and its comedy, except for Matthau's outright lunacy, is less barbed. Matthau is great as he slouches around his cluttered New York apartment in a bathrobe, mumbling to himself.
You'll probably enjoy it, and thank God Matthau's character doesn't die.