Grab the Viagra!
Make sure the false teeth are in place!
And don’t forget to pack extra pairs of underwear!
Because you’re going to outer space, ol’ fogies!
Yup, John Glenn will feel so ordinary when he goes to see “Space Cowboys,” a movie about four geriatric ex-Air Force pilots from the 1950s, who get the chance to denture — I mean, venture — into the great beyond 40 years later.
It is Clint Eastwood’s latest film that he has directed, produced and starred in, but it doesn’t have that Eastwood-esque feel to it. The 70-year-old’s aura was crystal clear in films such as “Unforgiven” and “A Perfect World,” but in this one it was about as clear as Donald Sutherland’s vision in the movie.
The movie was like “Cocoon” meets “Armageddon,” but without the corny emotion that was desperately needed in this film.
The actual plot is kind of ridiculous, so we’ll go over it quickly.
Four pilots in the ’50s are training to be the first Americans in outer space. NASA replaces them with a chimpanzee and the pilots are forgotten.
Forty years later, there’s a system failure in a Russian satellite, and the only people who can fix it are Eastwood and his gang of geezers, who designed the guidance system code used by the satellite.
But that’s not really the point. The interactivity between Frank Corvin (Eastwood), Hawk Hawkins (Tommy Lee Jones, 53), Jerry O’Neil (Sutherland, 66) and Tank Sullivan (James Garner, 70) is what makes the movie somewhat worthwhile.
The foursome play off each other well in a “Grumpy Old Men” way, and while the movie tries to build things up to the dramatic conclusion in the sky, the jabs while on the ground prove to be the highlight.
You have Tank, the Baptist minister, Hawk, the crazy crop duster who gives teenage kids thrill rides, and Jerry, the skirt-chasing roller coaster designer who never turns down an opportunity to flirt. For example, when the guys are getting introduced to a NASA engineer played by Marcia Gay Harden, Harden asks Jerry what his nickname is. Jerry holds her hand, kisses it and says, “You can call me … anytime.”
Sure, the laughs aren’t of the deep-chortle variety, but it does the trick. If only the movie would have focused on four old men training to go to space, and not about the actual mission, it would have been fine.
And while you’re not going to find any dazzling special effects such as an invisible man, or a group of hot babes dancing on a slippery bar, you do get the privilege of seeing four saggy, old bare asses.
Hey, it sure beats spending your time watching another group of (donkey) asses down there at the Democratic Convention in Los Angeles.