Take a Drink: anytime you wanna light yourself on fire.
Take a Drink: whenever you hear “Grandma”, “Grandpa”, “Little” or anything sad/tragic about a character.
Take a Shot: every time Oren takes off his jacket.
Take a Sip: whenever Leah sings, cries or gets snarky with Oren. Bonus Shot: if she does any two of these at the same time.
Take a Drink: every time the dog takes a shit or is found on the side of the road.
Shotgun a Beer: if you made it through And So It Goes without stabbing yourself in the face or falling asleep.
By: Felix Felicis (Five Beers) –
According to Dante and his totes angsty Inferno, there are nine circles in hell: People who talk during movies, hipsters, vegans, vegan hipsters, white girls who “literally can’t even”, One Directioners, Amanda Bynes enthusiasts, people who use double-negatives in a sentence and anyone involved with the creation of And So It Goes (which wasn’t even a little bit associated with Kurt Vonnegut and I resent the hell outta that). So strap on your angry rant panties, Boozers, because shit’s about to get real, real snarky.
I watched And So It Goes under severe sleep deprivation so my plot summary is somewhat interpretive. The film follows Gordon Gecko after Wall Street and Wall Street 2: The Rise of Shia LaBoeuf left him awash as an aging real estate agent in suburban Connecticut years later where events have not been kind to this Grumpy Old Man. He’s changed his name to, uh, something something Little (Otto? Ocelet? Oren, that’s it. Oren Little) and lives a life where everyone hates his rich, douchetastic ass, but only a *puts on sunglasses* LITTLE bit because we all know redemption is just one bang sesh with Diane Keaton away. Insert dead spouse drama, estranged son shenanigans, and unheard-of granddaughter dipshittery (who’s so cute she’d make Hitler fart kitten memes as a tool of rehabilitation, alongside a cries-at-the-drop-of-a-hat emotionally fragile Diane Keaton) and you’ve got yourself quality old-people porn here, y’all.
Let me just preface this review with the fact that I love Diane Keaton. Her masterful turn in The Family Stone makes me cry every time I watch it. Every. Goddamn. Time. And So It Goes pigeon-holes this talented actor into the weeping widow stereotype (LITERALLY) so thoroughly I wanted to bitch-slap her crying ass 95% percent of the time and eat ice cream with her in tasteful adult onesies the other 5%. But Diane Keaton’s character, Leah, showcases Keaton’s admittedly lovely voice. And by showcase, I mean shoves it down your throat at every opportunity. So not unlike piping-hot parental disappointment at any family dinner I’ve ever been to.
If the best characters in your movie are a crack addict onscreen less than three minutes and a dog that takes multiple shits then dry-humps a teddy bear, YOUR MOVIE’S GOT PROBLEMS, BRO. Sometimes you experience something so terrible, so horrifying, it affirms your resolve to live life to the fullest, appreciate every day, and bang that hot bartender you’ve been getting free drinks from for years because now you know how cruel life can be (and you don’t wanna waste another second of it). And So It Goes was my Alamo and I WILL NEVER FORGET… But with enough effort I may be able to bury the memory under booze and meaningless sex (please send Facebook prayers for me, those totally work.)
I wanted to light my face on fire within thirty seconds of the opening credits. The soundtrack for this Senior Shitizens Early Bird Special was like getting strapped to a chair Clockwork Orange-style and being forced to endure Easy Listening Jazz on the radio for two hours. If there were any sappier, slower, more narcolepsy-inducing songs left off that soundtrack they haven’t been written or recorded yet. Because holy fuck old people love the golden classics that help them have gentle yet frequent BMs. The diabetes-inducing musical score laid over touching emotional scenes was the cherry on top of the shit sundae that was And So It Goes.
If the goal was to elicit an emotional response from the audience, congrats! And So It Goes managed to make me regret every life choice I’d ever made that lead up to purchasing a ticket to this fecal fuckwittery. I can only hope early-onset Alzheimer’s steals this two hours from my long-term memory. Which is what I assume everyone else who bought a pass to this reboot of Grumpy Old Men And The Women Who Love Them was suffering from.
The stunning lack of anything resembling creativity amazed and astounded in this magnificent ode to a regurgitated plot even Paris Hilton could’ve vomited more originally. I can only imagine this is how And So It Goes got greenlit:
Studio Exec 1: Hey, bro, you like farting hundos in your sleep and buying solid gold tacos from the secret millionaire’s Taco Bell Baller’s Menu?
Studio Exec 2: You know I do, bro.
Studio Exec 1: We still have that sex tape Diane Keaton and Michael Douglas did in the eighties? The one with goats and underage hamsters?
Studio Exec 2: You know we do, bro.
Studio Exec 1: Sexcellent! Here’s how we’re gonna get rich…
If you’ve ever seen any movie where an unlikable character universally despised by their community is redeemed through the unlikely love of an animal, child, man, woman (or any combination thereof) and realizes the joy to be had in family, friendship and love THEN YOU’VE ALREADY SEEN THIS MOVIE. For fuck’s sake I know we’re running out of ideas, Hollywood, but this age-appropriate pandering to old people has got to stop! They’re almost dead anyways, just park Nana and Pop Pop in front of a wall with paint drying on it, call it Nothing Goes Crash, Bang, Or Boom and they’ll be just as happy and you can make a movie people under the age of ninety actually want to watch.
The characters in And So It Goes were so one-dimensional it was an insult to the actors cast to portray them. I know Diane Keaton and Michael Douglas had to make rent or afford that illegal Mexican stool softener it’s so hard to smuggle over the border these days, but really, guys? You’re better than this (fun fact: Sissy Spacek turned down the role that eventually went to Keaton). Creativity and originality were sacrificed on the altar of relatable life experiences but even those were trite and predictable. This movie went for the lowest hanging fruit every time and it was exhausting to watch Keaton and Douglas struggle to have chemistry with each other. I’ve seen sedated gerbils coming down off crystal meth binges have a more natural connection than those two.
When it came time to consummate their tepid courtship you could practically smell the Bengay wafting off the screen to entice the audience of octogenarians into hip-breaking horizontal shenanigans after their 8pm nightcap of milk of magnesia. As the only audience member in the theater under the AARP age limit, I spent this time staring at the screen wondering if any amount of therapy could rehabilitate my broken psyche… No, the answer is no.
The dialogue in And So It Goes was about as fresh as last week’s hooker I still have defrosting in my grand salon. I have no idea what a grand salon is, but I’m sure someone, somewhere, has a dead hooker defrosting in one. That’s the dream. And the dialogue in this film was a nightmare of predictable humor and mindlessly banal one liners desperate to keep aging minds up to date with the scary new world of technology they’ve been drowning in for years. Like in a scene where Oren wonders where another got information on his estranged son the, decades younger, man replies “I Googled him, I friended him on Facebook, we’ve been texting.” Holy Tinder, Batman! That’s like a shotgun-spray of social media jargon to the face.
I’m so glad to see prison-release reform programs allowing illiterate honey badgers to write film scripts in full swing here, because if there’s one thing we need less of in cinema, it’s “originality” and “fresh new ideas” amirite guys? … Cards on the table, I might’ve hallucinated the last half of this review but in my defense YOUR ROOMMATE SHOULD CLEARLY LABEL ANY BROWNIES THEY LEAVE OUT ON THE KITCHEN COUNTER “FILLED WITH WEED” and “NOT FILLED WITH WEED”, SCOTT. I highly recommend if you’re forced to take your mom, dad, grandma or grandpa to see this, you do so high. It won’t improve the dialogue or the film, but those family-sized Skittles you snuck in will taste like dreams (making it a little less painful).
If there’s a hell, it’s filled with vegan hipsters and And So It Goes on a loop for eternity.