Elsa & Fred.

In the genre of geriatric love stories, things don't get much better - or, let's be honest here, more predictable - than Elsa & Fred. No matter. If you are seeking a movie for which the proverbial "you'll laugh, you'll cry" couldn't be more apt, a movie that'll have you turning alternately giddy and cuddly (and, yes, I know that some of you are already running from the room), you may have found that rare, end-of-the-rainbow pot o' gold, caveats - and there are plenty of them - be damned. Featuring an award-winning cast of supporting actors (Blanca Portillo, Federico Luppi, José Ángel Egido, Carlos Álvarez Novoa), the film is blessed with two leads as close to perfect for their roles as any you can imagine: Manuel Alexandre and China Zorrilla.

Zorrilla, 83 when she made this movie, is a force of nature, as is the character she portrays. A big girl, who has probably only grown bigger with age, she literally dwarfs her leading man - which is all to the good. Quiet and courtly, he sneaks up on her (and on the viewer) and by the finale will have you chuckling though your tears (do take the entire box of tissue with you to the theater). His last line, a single word, combines all the reticence and charm, humor and delight that he has brought to his role. (Alexandre, now 90 and credited with some 226 film and TV performances, has a new film, Pretextos, currently in release in Spain. Go, Manuel!)

Elsa & Fred depends entirely on the chemistry and connection between its two stars, and, my, they do come through. Elsa brings Fred out of his shell, and through his eyes we begin to see the wonderful woman whom we'd initially imagined as some sort of harpy. The screenplay (credited to the director, Marcos Carnevale, and to Lily Ann Martin and Marcela Guerty) is probably the least of the film: nasty daughter, cute grandchild, and a leading lady who's always getting into a car wreck for comic effect. But the performances do much to mitigate the predictability, and the direction, simple but not obvious, does its job in workmanlike, pleasant fashion.

If I sound cavalier about Carnevale's achievement, this is only because his film lacks much surprise. Would I have missed it? Never. Just because you know what you're getting inside that brightly wrapped gift box doesn't mean that you're not going to love it.

-James Van Maanen

Not everyone agrees. Nick Schager, for example, writing in Slant: "Sweet November for the nursing-home set, Elsa and Fred is sentimental mush cooked up with extra syrup."

"Although too few movies take into account the rich lives of the elderly - unless those elderly are actors trying to pass as action heroes - that doesn't fully excuse a movie as cloying and predictable as Elsa & Fred," writes Noel Murray at the AV Club.

"The problem isn't the acting; both actors are superb," writes Jean Oppenheimer in the Voice. "It's Elsa's character that is so difficult to take. Only the hopelessly romantic will be able to tolerate her."

"Elsa & Fred is best enjoyed as a sampling of Ms Zorrilla's combustible energy and still dazzling screen presence," writes Jeannette Catsoulis in the New York Times. "There are also moments of credible intimacy, like the ease between Fred and his young doctor as they discuss the physical boundaries of the affair. In movies like this expect medication to deliver the most vital - and least celebrated - supporting performance."

"It's the kind of movie that looks effortless but undoubtedly wasn't," writes Andrew O'Hehir in Salon. "If the real attraction of Elsa & Fred lies in the offbeat, asymmetrical chemistry between its two elderly stars, Manuel Alexandre and China Zorrilla, playing a unlikely couple who find each other as twilight is closing in, it's Carnevale who has built a quietly enchanted space around them."

Posted by dwhudson at June 27, 2008 2:43 PM