My loving spouse, St. Eva the Good and I, broke down and invested the princely sum of $30 to see The Bucket List, starring Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman. The $30 included two senior admissions, two diet cokes and one bucket of popcorn. I only eat popcorn popped on-site; none of that stuff that is popped in Pittsburgh and shipped by UPS to theaters around the globe. And it must be popped in that special palm oil that clogs the arteries and shaves at least 30 minutes off your life span. I am very particular about my popcorn. But I digress.
The premise of the movie is a great one. Two men, perfect strangers, find themselves in the same hospital room sharing a diagnosis of terminal cancer. It was the Freeman character who began the "bucket list" -- a compilation of things he would like to do before he kicks the proverbial bucket. One reviewer wrote that the movie dies before the characters. That is a bit too harsh. Yes, it is a sappy movie and yes, I was unable to read the final credits because my eyes were a bit filled.
But as is my wont, I am always looking for the philosophical underpinnings of the plot. And there is plenty to chew on in this flick. Nicholson and Freeman are excellent. ( Have either of them ever made a bad movie?) And so I am inspired to compile my own list. Not that I am anticipating a premature demise...unless that palm oil does its heinous work in rapid fashion.
What amazed me as I tried to begin this enterprise was the realization that I really couldn't think of anything to put down. I am still thinking...still contemplating...there must be something to put on this d%$# list. No inspiration as yet. But stay tuned, Bloggers. Something will surface...maybe.