Much like the comedy duo of its title, "The Sunshine Boys" has become a forgotten classic 30-odd years later. It's hardly mentioned alongside other great film comedies of the 1970s. This makes no sense given the singular specialness of this film, perhaps the best Neil Simon ever wrote.
Walter Matthau plays Willy Clark, once half of a legendary vaudeville comedy known as Lewis and Clark, now a bitter 73-year-old solo act who can't get a job in a potato chip commercial. His nephew and agent Ben (Richard Benjamin) is sure he can get work if Willy will only agree to reunite with his estranged partner Al Lewis (George Burns) for an ABC-TV celebration of show business nostalgia.
Nostalgia is what "Sunshine Boys" has going for it in spades, right from the start when a series of 1920s film clips showcasing various entertainers from long ago flickers before us to the accompaniment of Cole Porter's "Be A Clown". Then there's the film's present-day setting in Manhattan, where flared trousers and wide polyester ties abound. The periods collide in Willy's glorious mess of a Manhattan apartment, where framed photos and cartoons of long-dead celebrities stare out from the walls at lurid tabloid headlines and empty Zabar grocery bags. If you were alive in the 1970s like me, you might even feel like you were in that apartment.
Willy clearly has been living there too long. He's sleeping in front of the television when the kettle in the other room boils. Willy wakes up and picks up the phone.
"Hello, who is this?" A pause. "Never mind, it's the tea."
Old men living alone can be sad material in almost anyone else's hands, but Simon's deft wit and unerring feeling for character turns this adaptation of his 1972 stage hit into comedy gold. The amazing thing about "The Sunshine Boys" is how much it rubs your noses in Willy's almost existential condition without turning you off at all. "89 years old and just like that, he dies of nothing'" Willy says of one old songwriting friend, before deciding the man probably died from writing a song that rhymed "lady" with "baby".
Burns won an Oscar for his understated performance as the gentle but steely Lewis, but it's Matthau who brings this one home, his make-up and proud but ragged bearing really selling you on the idea he was already 73 when he made this. Willy is obnoxious in the extreme, fully deserving Ben's description "crazy freakin' old man", but you root for him throughout, enjoying his small victories even when they come at the cost of others' patience. His lines kill you, too, especially when he's trying to kill Lewis, for whom the TV reunion turns out to be a bad idea.
"You're out of touch!" Willy tells Lewis at one point. "I'm still in demand. I'm still hot!"
"If this room was on fire you wouldn't be hot," Lewis replies.
Director Herbert Ross shoots everything in a very casual and understated way, with low lighting and mid-range shots even in emotional moments so as to leave room for the comedy and the film's overall zen message of grace through quiet acceptance. You never get the feeling you are watching a movie, one of "The Sunshine Boys" many charms, and Ross's direction, like the acting of the three principals, goes a long way toward achieving that end.
Comedy is hard, especially when the subjects are people watching life pass them by, but "The Sunshine Boys" makes it all seem a pleasure, because, for us watching, it is.