A Sad Smile
Call it the art-house Ocean’s Eleven. If you’re in the mood for an all-star ensemble but prefer conversation and reminiscence to thievery, try Last Orders, a Fred Schepisi film that features the strongest lineup of English talent — Michael Caine, Bob Hoskins, Ray Winstone, Helen Mirren, Tom Courtenay and David Hemmings — this side of Robert Altman’s Gosford Park. Yet it doesn’t feel like stunt casting; the people we watch onscreen come off not like England’s greatest actors showing off but as a group of friends who have indeed known each other for years through life’s little triumphs and large tragedies.
At the pub Coach and Horses, Ray (Hoskins), Vic (Courtenay), Lenny (Hemmings) and Vince (Winstone) have gathered with the cremated remains of their departed mate Jack (Caine). Jack, a modest butcher like his father before him, always nursed a fantasy of retiring to the seaside by Margate Pier and has left behind a last request to have his ashes dropped into the sea there. His put-upon widow, Amy (Mirren), declines to fulfill the task; Jack has left her in debt, and she isn’t especially inclined to carry out what seems a frivolous wish. Ray agrees to make the trip himself, and the circle of friends comes along for the ride. Flashbacks naturally ensue.
Though not as painstakingly laid out as Christopher Nolan’s reverse-order Memento, much of Last Orders plays out of sequence, deepening our understanding of things we think we already know. For example, that Vince is Jack’s son isn’t a secret to the characters (they simply never explicitly refer to him as such), but it’s the first of many subtle revelations for the audience to take in.
But the plot surprises are relatively minor next to the film’s major goal of painting a portrait of these men who have lost sight of their youthful ambitions and forgotten to what degree they are capable of change. Jack had just sold the butcher shop when he died, having realized that he had become too set in his ways. Vince, the youngster of the group, is a successful car salesman who commandeers one of the nicer Mercedes on the lot for the road trip, but his late pop had always wanted him to continue the family’s butcher-shop business. Lenny was a boxer who got knocked out of the game at an early stage. Ray is a perennial single, having been left by his wife when their daughter headed out to Australia to be married. Ray also compulsively gambles on horse races, but he’s so well-schooled at it that he seldom loses. Amy, meanwhile, is left alone with her severely mentally handicapped daughter, who at the age of fifty languishes in an asylum staring at plush bunnies. Vic is the only one who seems content, and he’s an undertaker.
But Last Orders isn’t a downer. The movie is more of a wake than a funeral, and while it is often poignant, it’s never maudlin; scenes of characters crying take up maybe five of its 109 minutes. Our leads take every opportunity to stop for a pint, leaving one to wonder how they manage to subsequently maneuver a vehicle with any degree of success. Caine’s Jack is not the sort of guy who wants to depress people when he’s gone, and his friends oblige, carting his urn along to all the local watering holes with smiles on their faces and a bit of sadness in their hearts. Chances are you’ll feel the same way after watching Last Orders.
