Just Getting Started (2017)

Just Getting Started (aka Villa Capri) review by Mark McPherson - Cinema Paradiso

Oh, if only the title were true to its word. If only the amateur first act of this tone-deaf comedy used the absurdity of Morgan Freeman beating up a Santa Claus and Tommy Lee Jones being a master of taming dogs as the mere icing of a more filling and funny cake. But I’m saddened to report that Just Getting Started is all empty calories.

The film has such an uninteresting premise it wouldn’t surprise me if this was the staging for a TV pilot that died in production and was in desperate need of a laugh track. Freeman plays Duke Diver, a defense lawyer that has gone under the radar, or about as under as one can be for the being the manager of a retirement resort. His backstory, however, will not be revealed until the movie has progressed past tired gags of Freeman being a local player of the resort, juggling multiple ladies in multiple rooms. But, oh no, it’s also poker night! What a hectic and hilarious lifestyle for a horny elder.

Diver has apparently pissed off the wrong people in the past as the movie begins with one angry woman calling for a hit on Diver. A likely suspect is the new arrival of Leo McKay, played by Tommy Lee Jones in his standard 10-gallon hat and aviator sunglasses leftover from sheriff roles. McKay arrives to not only spy Diver, but hone in on his female acquaintances and potentially steal them away with his many charms. Steamed, Diver will challenge McKay to the ultimate battles of golf and limbo. And you better believe they’ll make a joke about bad backs involved with limbo sticks.

Much of the humor comes in random segments without much flow. The murder mystery of Diver being targeted by some mysterious assassin that leaves snakes in his golf bag and bombs in his golf cart would be enough. But in comes Rene Russo as Suzie, the regional director of the resorts that is dismayed by Diver and smitten with McKay. This leads to a love triangle that is devoid of chemistry and all about what could be funny situations. Take for example a scene where McKay is painting a mountain and impresses Suzie, much to Diver’s chagrin. Nothing in the film has led us to believe McKay is a painter, nor does his impressive knowledge of art history play a role anywhere outside of this scene. Get used to this staging.

Remember how I mentioned Freeman beating up Santa and Jones quelling a dog? Those scene exist almost independent of the rest of the movie. Within a minute, Freeman is informed that an uncaring corporate Santa has taken over his favorite costume of the Christmas season and proceeds to beat him up in front of everyone. Within a few seconds, Jones has told a dog to be quiet and sit with his excuse being too simple; “I like dogs.” And the most obvious and tasteless sex jokes fill in all the blanks, where Freeman hires strippers for parties and books lecture classes on group sex. Even if you have a thing for jokes about dirty old men, the repetition is cranked to such a degree that even the most excusing of perversion will be either bored or grossest out by the abundance of juvenile sexuality, strong enough to put any raunchy college comedy picture to shame.

There’s very little flow to this farce that even the Christmas element appears as a passive force in the background, despite a Santa smackdown, reindeer rampage, and a ball of Christmas songs. I can only imagine it exists for the oldest of audiences that drift in and out of the picture in their tired state. Considering you can drop in on any part of this movie without a cohesive plot or connecting gags, it may be a smart move for its demographic. For my demographic, however, I need a little more than random dirty old antics to find a laugh, even with the top talents of Freeman, Jones and Russo.