Thanks for the memories!

Slow pace in the most part of the movie.

Am i the only one who thinks........Average?

There's no way I can possibly love it entirely but I just think its ridiculously bad, but enjoyable at the same time.

There is no end in sight to curiosity about unlikely couples with decades of age difference. Well here the couple finding themselves in a very hard to define type of relationship consist of the actors Michael Caine, age 78 at the time of the filming, and the lovely and soulful Clémence Poésy, age 29 respectively. This film is quite educational for people who keep wondering what is possible and what definitely is not achievable in a relationship with almost 50 years age difference, and what a couple like this might actually talk about between them and what not. The acting is absolutely world class even in the smallest roles, let alone the lead couple who give their particular situation and the twists it will lead them to amazing credibility. The international production has resulted in many impressive shooting locations beautifully captured on film, yes real film. Both intrinsically sad and optimistic about the power of love in spite of everything, Last Love will leave you in tears but in a good way. Do yourself a favor and see it, you might learn a thing or two about life you didn't know before.

the point of the film is that isolation can take place at any stage in our lives, at 25 or at 85. whatever their age, people share the same desire for company and for fulfillment, and when these vanish, we wither and vanish. this statement is the genius of the film, a fact which the film critics seem to have missed altogether. reading the reviews, you get the impression that they have not absorbed the film or analyzed it in any useful way. they repeat each other's phrases. there is no independent thought, no intellect or critical faculty applied by any of them. one critic did not even bother to watch the film (he says she is a ballet teacher). the biggest problem with the film, i would say, is its audience. the best reviews are found in the comments, which are made by amateurs.

Sandra Nettelbeck's zombified film, based upon the French novel La Douceur Assassine, ostensibly opens where Michael Haneke's Amour ended. But while Haneke's film sought to challenge our principles and provoke topical debate, Nettelbeck's is more likely to challenge the patience and provoke irritation in all but the most undemanding. The dialogue is trite, the relational dynamics are soapy, and the tone is sentimental.Matthew Morgan (Michael Caine) has just put his wife (Jane Alexander) to eternal sleep. He's condemned to shuffling around his plush Parisian apartment, now an echoing mausoleum, until such a time that he plucks up the courage to meet his wife in the thereafter. But his dwindling existence is suddenly electrified when he's hit upon (or, contrives to be hit upon) by a young dance instructor named Pauline (Clémence Poésy). Her father is dead. "You remind me of my father," she tells Matthew. This gives you an idea of the sort of script we're dealing with.The essential premise, which wavers between faintly creepy and screw-faced baffling, wouldn't be such a problem if there were deeper layers of drama underneath. But it's all surface. Potentially difficult issues – e.g. assisted suicide – are brushed against gently, while others are glossed over entirely – e.g. the dubious sexual energy between lonely old Matthew and daddy's little princess Pauline. And this is before Matthew's vile children (Justin Kirk and Gillian Anderson) turn up to do some shopping and tell their dad he's selfish. It's a film world where characters are seemingly more interested in soap operatics than behaving like recognisable human beings; and where men and women relate like alien species.Michael Caine is suitably bumbling and shell-shocked in the title role, even though, playing an American, he adopts a bizarre accent that prances across most of the Western hemisphere, often in the course of a single line. Poésy is adorable; except, beyond the basic knowledge of her own bereavement, we never truly understand what draws her so powerfully to Matthew, let alone why she sidles up to his hospital bed in a see-through top. Anderson provides a brief burst of energy, but it's a cameo really. The heavy lifting is left to Kirk, and it's a charmless delivery of a charmless character."It wasn't supposed to be like this!" cries Matthew. Another clunker of a line from a screenplay blandified to oblivion. No alarms and no surprises; the surreal, vanishing point horror that is spousal grief is rendered as hazy anaesthesia, where the senses are dulled until some younger model comes along to reawaken them. The sequences where Matthew relives conversations with his wife are presumably meant to represent reflective recollection, but I couldn't help wondering if they might be born of guilt for burying his face in Pauline's boobs while he wept for his loss.The cinematography is a watercolour array of picture postcards depicting landmark Paris and quaint surrounding countryside, scored to trickling piano texture that doesn't so much complement the drama as provide a marshmallow mattress topper.A film with a geriatric theme needn't be geriatric in pace and tone. It patronises the very people whose plight it seeks to illuminate. How about some psychological insight? Some effort to chart this melancholy territory? Okay, we see Matthew's desire to emerge from his malaise. But what does that malaise really look like? Feel like? By the end we're none the wiser, and one is left concluding that the film simply isn't trying hard enough on any level.

For some reason, Michael Caine was chosen to play an American old man living in France. He is devastated by the death of his wife and can't cope with it. He contemplates suicide when he meets an interesting and very young French girl who breathes some life in his routine driven drab excuse for an existence. He tries to commit suicide and fails, making his son and daughter to come visiting. The French girl wants to fix everyone's problems, including her daddy and family issues.Up to this point, the actors were well fleshed out, the acting good and the mood, even if boring sometimes, was interesting, feeling like something one might learn from. But towards the end Caine's character becomes more and more erratic. Far from a lovable old man and a great father, the script is trying to force him to become one with the other characters inexplicably making huge efforts to fix him. The ending is inexplicable as well, mostly because after all that effort, it seems really wasteful.Clémence Poésy is very cute, even Harry Potter thought so, and Michael Caine remains a good actor, even if he didn't seem at all the right choice for this role. And I believe this is the part where the movie fails completely: the casting. Caine as an American, with his clearly British accent and his demeanor, I am sad to say, that of an angry bully, not a sad old man as the role demanded, was a horrible choice. I can applaud Justin Kirk trying to not play a funny guy anymore, but you do that in a movie where everybody else is well cast. As such, he was also a weird choice. And Gillian Anderson playing very well her role, I think it was actually right for her, but her character has a few scenes and then goes away.Bottom line: the ending and the casting make this film a failure, in my mind. Besides a few well acted emotional scenes that brought tears to my eyes and some others that seemed like they are going to teach me something about human nature, it turned out to be a bore. Also, the script seemed written somewhere in the past. No one used a cell phone? Really?!