Grumpy Old Men




Kids, can't live with them, can't shoot them.

If you're one to enjoy listening to a pair of geezers constantly insult each other, pull pranks and even attempt a stabbing with a frozen fish (as seen above), this may be the movie for you.

Two old "friends," John (Jack Lemmon) and Max (Walter Matthau), live next door to one other. Though they really do care about each other, they cover it with their repertoire of insults, stemming off a grudge they've been holding since 1938. When a new, fresh spirited woman named Ariel (Ann-Margret) moves onto their street, they're up in arms against each other to win her hand.

It's quite possible this movie is as well liked as it is because it's set in northern Minnesota. Since it's winter, everyone other person from town is out in their ice shanty fishing. The story doesn't really revolve around this aspect, but it does draw heavily from the local culture. For some it's probably a novelty. Then there's the humor, which is an acquired taste at best. Sure some of the insults and one-liners Lemmon and Matthau spew are amusing, but it gets old and is not very original. They've even got Burgess Meredith doing a crusty but lovable act. Case in point, it illustrates how old men aren't always the shining examples of geniality and wisdom we hold them up to be. There are also some very real moments where the loneliness and realities of growing old are laid bare. The moral points out that life shouldn't and doesn't end after retirement. It's a shame those parts of the story aren't worked more though. It's in the brief flashes of John and Max's underlying friendship, coupled with these issues, that Grumpy Old Men is at its best.

Spurring on a resurgence of their partnership, Lemmon and Matthau do what they do best: insult each other as if they don't care. Matthau is impertinent and Lemmon is disdainful. It's too bad they're gone now; they rarely got to work with the kind of material they deserved. The rest of the cast is balanced between pulling for laughs and being as lovable as possible. Ann-Margret is marginally crazy but sweet, Burgess Meredith crass but endearing.

So while it's hardly the highest form of comedy available, fans of the Lemmon/Matthau combo and anyone else who enjoys hearing grizzled geezers gushing grumpiness can still no doubt get a kick out of it.



-The Gnome