Word has reached me that Robert Redford and Jane Fonda have made another romantic comedy. That’s right, Redford and Fonda in the, uh, saddle again. Their last one being The Electric Horseman in 1979 (my two favorites in that one were the horse and Willie Nelson). The new offering is called Our Souls at Night and Netflix subscribers can watch it the 29th of this month.
As Magnum, P.I. might have put it, I know what you’re thinking. Redford is 81, Fonda 79. Our Bob might need a stunt double for the sex scenes. (I can picture the stunt guy now getting a call from his agent. “You want me to do WHAT!?” “With who?” “What are they paying?” “Not nearly enough.” “Don’t you have an exploding car?” “Maybe a dive out of a 20-storey window.”)
I guess we should be thankful that there’s at least one movie featuring the very mature enjoying romance in all its aspects — the reviews I read say the movie starts when the Fonda character appears at the door of the Redford character and asks him, without preamble, if he would share her bed. On the evidence of most American movies and television series, beings from elsewhere would be justified in concluding that 98 percent of the people in the lower-48 are in their thirties, and that everyone over 65 is either put onto ice-flows or shot into outer space.
I probably won’t watch this one. I’m not a Netflix subscriber. Besides, while I’ve forgiven Jane Fonda for what she did in the sixties, I’ll never forget. But I won’t be cranky about it. I’m pleased that there’s a dance left in old Sundance. And I’m all right with Jane working out on something more than the Stairmaster.