Youth

Overview

Michael Caine and Harvey Keitel wonder about days gone by, while Rachel Weisz and Jane Fonda deliver verbal tirades designed to awaken the ageing men from their apathy. All four spend their time in an expensive Swiss spa, and in a film as visually luxurious as their lush surroundings. So unravels Youth, its seasoned cast and opulent images its obvious selling points. Musings about life, love and legacy have rarely looked as exquisite, even if the movie's charms remain somewhat surface level.

Youth is an inescapably familiar effort from writer-director Paolo Sorrentino, who covered similar territory — contrasting internal emptiness with external splendour — in his Oscar-winning last feature, The Great Beauty. Alas, the same magic doesn't strike twice, though in some ways that's rather apt. There's obvious symmetry in a filmmaking repeating the past by depicting characters stuck in theirs.

Caine's Fred Ballinger is a retired composer, so renowned that he's asked to conduct his most famous creation for the queen, and so haunted by his troubles that he can't agree to participate in the performance. His discussions with Keitel's Mick Boyle, a filmmaker trying to finish a new script, largely focus on former glories, the ailments of being elderly, and their feuding children. Fred's daughter, Lena (Weisz), is married to Mick's son, Julian (Ed Stoppard), until Julian announces that he's leaving her for another woman.

Others wander around the retreat, including an actor (Paul Dano) worried about being typecast and a fading screen siren (Fonda) Mick wants to re-team with for his next movie. In slivers and glimpses, Youth casts its net even wider, with a famous footballer, a beauty queen, and a motley crew of fellow guests also featuring. Together, they paint a universal picture of the ebbs and flows of existence, and of the contrast between the sublime and the grotesque. Sadly, most come across as diversions and distractions, directing attention away from the flimsiness of the film's supposedly wise dialogue.

That's not to say that Youth doesn't have its pleasures — just that they're saddled with less successful elements, which is an appropriate outcome for a movie that tasks its characters with attempting to find the joy beyond their own sorrows. Watching Caine and Keitel chat and ponder is as enjoyable as it sounds — and while their conversations aren't as profound as they're clearly meant to be, the performances  are moving nonetheless. Coupled with a strong score, Sorrentino's aesthetic flair ensures the feature offers a sight to behold and a soundscape to revel in, whether fashioning a music video for a pop star, taking a trip down memory lane or just staring at the folks reclining by the pool.

It all makes for a suitable spectacle of mortality and melancholy; however the filmmaker's greatest feat is also his greatest undoing. He makes Youth feel exactly as it should, but always like an imitation. It's a decadent picture about watching the world go by, rather than really experiencing it.