Golden Boys? Stand Up Guys Is a Blow to Al Pacino's Legacy

Please, for his own good, somebody clap Dustin Hoffman into a chastity belt. Based on what Al Pacino suffers in Stand Up Guys, and the identical humiliations visited up Robert De Niro in Little Fockers, it seems that Hollywood will not be satisfied until it has speared a hypodermic into the pill-engorged erection of every last remaining leading man of the 1970s.

In Pacino's case, the setup is that he's an old-timer gangster named Val just released from almost three decades in lockup. His pal Doc (Christopher Walken) duly takes him to one of those movie brothels where all the sex workers look like Victoria's Secret models. But Pacino's Val can't perform—he announces this for all to hear, as he's a movie character and not a person. So the boys rob a pharmacy, Val gulps down a mouthful of Bob Dole pills, and any audience member who has seen a comedy in recent years can predict the next 20 miserable minutes. Why Val doesn't see disaster coming is a mystery. He has bragged that in prison, he could watch Starz, so he has certainly endured some Meet the Parents sequels.

It plays out like you would fear. Yes, Val, potency restored, returns to fuck his whore (he finishes four times, he shouts to anyone within earshot). Yes, the actor who played Sonny in Dog Day Afternoon winds up in a hospital bed, the sheets rigged up with some pitch-a-tent prosthetic hard-on. And, yes, a doctor must prick said hard-on with a needle on loan from the Saw movies, in this case not to inject medicine but actually to draw blood. And, yes, all of this is exactly as funny as it would be in real life: Imagine watching someone you've known for years and have come to respect getting stabbed in the dick by a doctor.


Stand Up Guys
Directed by Fisher Stevens
Opens December 14, Film Society of Lincoln Center

Because he's a movie character, Val rallies from this ordeal and is immediately game for a full night's worth of adventures, including a couple of fights, some grand theft auto, three visits to the same diner, and two more cases of breaking and entering. Around 4 a.m. Val and Doc somehow gain access to a backhoe (are there rental places open?). And there's a return visit to the brothel, where Alan Arkin—playing a near-death associate sprung from an old-folks' home—takes on two working girls at once. Without medical enhancement, he somehow leaves both bewitched and literally begging for more. It's shameless, the same "ladies love dead meat" joke played on Madeline Kahn in Young Frankenstein.

There is a plot to all this. The crime lord who rules this any-city has charged Walken's Doc with offing Pacino's Val immediately upon Val's release (murdering his dignity isn't enough). But the movie is really about the slow demolition process of old men aging in the public eye. Pacino and Walken hobble gingerly about, director Fisher Stevens affording them no vanity. Pacino's face has puddled, now all jowl and whiskers, and his voice has taken on a wet rasping undertone somewhere between a cat purring and the coring of cabbages. He yaps and yaps, but only on occasion does he gather any of the old power, most notably in a scene in which he has to beg a posse of club hotties to even consider a dance with him.

Like De Niro these days, Pacino seems to have been drained of whatever the world originally loved about him—perhaps those jokey crotch needles lanced something vital. Walken, meanwhile, has stiffened into himself, becoming more funny without losing what's imposing in him. Here, as in Seven Psychopaths, he even manages to seem a bit wise as he carries on his lifelong exploration of English-language syllables, each of which he pauses over, briefly considers, and seems to find is not a clean fit for the next. Of all the '70s-made men who have been made, by age, into comic figures, only Walken seems in control of what makes him funny.

The film is appealingly grubby and scored to great soul singles from the days of its leads' primes. It's also surprisingly violent for a movie steeped in Cocoon-style "old folks like sex" jokes and surprisingly sentimental for one in which a rape victim—in a gag stolen from Scrooged, of all things—jokes about loving The Nutcracker before taking a bat to the balls of her assailants. (Walken and Pacino also keep tossing out the "I'm here to kick ass or chew bubble gum" line from John Carpenter's They Live. Since when does Al Pacino look for tips on coolness from "Rowdy" Roddy Piper?)

Looming over all of this is supposed to be the question of whether Doc will kill Val, especially as their night wears on and their adventures become more worth bonding over—and unbelievable. But by the end, the feeling the movie inspires isn't suspense but relief: Thank God that the producers behind Grumpy Old Men and The Sunshine Boys didn't yet have Viagra to joke about.

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What an idiotic review. Just saw the movie. You are so wrong on every count you are not worth bothering with. Jealous some?


I should have looked up your bio, before I wasted my time reading you sophomoric dribble – had I known beforehand that your resume of writing accomplishments is based exclusively on 2009 awards from the “KC Press Club”, I would have invested my time more wisely. Isn’t that the journalistic (and I use that term liberally) equivalent of paying to be listed in one of the “Who’s Who in (fill in the blank)”

Yeah I know I’m being mean-spirited here, but you are so completely wrong I cannot believe you are taken seriously as a film critic and actually get published.


You sir, are, quite simply, an idiot and testament to what a once great publication has become. How can you look yourself in the mirror when you collect your unearned and ill gotten booty? Everyone is, of course, entitled to their own opinion, but when one gets paid to provide an intelligent and informed one, one should be somewhat qualified to do so.

I suggest you do not give up your night job waiting tables.


Did we watch the same movie? I loved it.


The movie was awesome, the movie gave you action, drama, and a tad bit of comedy and to say the least your whole that what this is?because whatever it is I believe it has been done by a complete idiot who must have saw his boner and spent the rest of the movie still stuck on another mans penis, point being, it almost made me cry..I am a dude that doesn't cry, it made me laugh, I am not one to "laugh out loud" and it made me "feel" for the characters involved, so, I didn't read everything you said but from what I did read you forgot to say that this movie, "doesn't" hurt his legacy, this movie is awesome and one last thing, if I were his age..and I went to fuck a prostitute, and I couldn't get up that might just be a realistic way I would have dealt with it with one night left to live...You sir need to quit this job and get a job as a sales person for bullshit.Have a good one ;)


@offbeatbopI agree completely. Alan, you write this review as if the erection saga WAS the story of the film, which couldn't be further from the reality. In fact, the film was so rich on so many levels that until I read this review, I'd forgotten about that scene at all. I'm afraid you're the minority opinion here. 


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