Most plots revolve around the driving needs of a character – sex, money, revenge, and several other goals are the pivot point of many plots. So I was baffled by Lucky (2017), the story of a 90 year old man named Lucky who is riding out the end of his life in a small town.
But it does gradually come into focus, and explains why a movie that seems to be plot-free is cohesive and makes sense. The driver is a basic urge we rarely encounter in cinema: the fear of the true final frontier, death, as faced by a man who either has discarded religion, or never wore it. As death inevitably approaches, Lucky undergoes the transformation of realizing that life, in all its form, is precious, from people of other races, other moralities, and, as he rescues a box of crickets meant to be food for reptilian pets, other species.
This is a movie of uncommonly subtle touches, where a mere sentence concerning Liberace reveals a bigotry he has since discarded, or a friend’s grief over the disappearance of his pet tortoise, but recognition that the tortoise has primal urges which it, too, must obey, comes along as an apparent comedic side-trip, and yet may be the central message of the movie – a plea to consider our fellow creatures as being something other than our playthings.
A movie rich in professionals, executed with a crisp, relaxed competency, and a fine ear for dialog, this is a movie which will repay the audience’s patience and attention.
Strongly Recommended.
