Never Again (2001)

The idea of a love affair between two 54 year olds who are determined never to fall in love again certainly makes for an interesting and usable premise. Having them meet in a gay bar because the male half of the couple thinks he might be gay and the woman happens to be there also (who knows why), and he mistakes her for a transvestite, etc., is as phony and unpersuasive a plot device as I ever remember encountering in a film that wasn't made for 10-year-olds or for fans of horror films. If they'd met in some "normal" fashion and if the director/scriptwriter hadn't also pressed the wrong buttons by having her 18-year-old daughter walk in on them while he's under the covers examining her nether parts close up and by having her modeling porn shop sex tools when he brings her mother visiting and if, if, if.....this could have been a reasonably good movie. Jill Clayburgh is a handsome woman of a certain age, and while Jeffrey Tambor will never be mistaken for Brad Pitt, it's possible for women to fall in love with fat little bald guys too. As it is, "Never Again" is mildly -- very mildly -- entertaining, assuming you aren't offended by the most sexually explicit language I've ever encountered in a movie. But it's certainly no "Harry Meets Sally" for an older generation as it's been advertised. Most of the intended humor is far too strenuous and improbable to be seriously funny. So there's much more wrong than right about this movie. But Bill Duke is splendid as Tambor's lifelong friend and bass-playing jazz partner and Clayburgh and Tambor do reasonably good jobs when they aren't asked to do something utterly ridiculous. Someone ought to confiscate Eric Schaeffer's pen and director's chair, however.He's entirely responsible for butchering the premise.

For once a real love story that involves real people. Middle aged, overweight and wringled. Great writing and great acting. Everyone over the age of 49 ought to be required to watch this film. Jill is great.

It could be a couple of things...either I'm totally off base or those people 50+ who saw the movie and say they didn't like it are in denial. It was over the top a couple of times (the dildo!) but in general, portrayed reality. Pathos, pain, love, frustration, mortality, fear...it was all there. Shame on those who aren't brave enough to admit that it portrayed some very real parts of "life."

Having been a Jill Clayburgh fan since she was being gently tugged around by her nipples in "An Unmarried Woman,' I decided to give this movie a try despite the universally awful reviews it received. Well, 1978 was then and this is now and Ms. Clayburgh's chest is thankfully kept under cover. Unfortunately, that's about the only humiliation she and the rest of the cast are spared in this unqualified disaster. In fairness to the director, he was working with a wretched screenplay but that's because Eric Schaeffer is a hack writer *and* director.The sole believable moment in this entire film is a scene where Grace (Clayburgh) berates Christopher (Jeffrey Tambor) in a restaurant. It shows what a fine actress she is and highlights how badly she is wasted in this schlock. Christopher is an exterminator who plays jazz piano at night. Yeah, right. He's basically Hank Kingsley with some piano lessons and an African American friend named Earl (Bill Duke in a thankless role). Earl is the only sane character in this bomb which makes it highly unlikely that he'd have someone like Christopher as a friend. In fact, there is no conceivable reason for anyone in this film to behave in the incredibly contrived ways they doDesperate attempts at hilarious hijinks involving a strap-on dildo and a suit of armor land with a dull thud. In a sad attempt at farce, Schaeffer has instead produced a travesty. Hopefully the title of this misbegotten mess will serve as fitting epitaph to his career. And if Jill Clayburgh needs money this bad, please advise her to lay off the crack and give me a call; I'll send her a check. Finally, we have Sandy Duncan. Yes, *that* Sandy Duncan. Talking about sex. I rest my case.