Something's Gotta Give

Jack Nicholson is known as The Great Scene Stealer, a devil-may-care Casanova with a winning smile. Suddenly, it's not working any more. Diane Keaton, the kookie ingenue from Annie Hall, turns him over and locks him out.

Of course, it's not meant to be that way. A romantic comedy with oldies? My God! How daring! Except these oldies are tried-and-tested charmers and, honey, who can resist?

Harry (Nicholson) owns a successful rap label and only dates girls under 30. He's 63 and looks it, smoking those fat cigars. Both these concepts are difficult to believe. Harry and rap go together like haggis and seaweed. As for the sex, there are Viagra jokes and a body that's broken out of the compound.

Expecting a weekend of rumpy-on-the-roll with the delectable Marin (Amanda Peet) at her mom's beach house, he is caught with his trousers down by her old lady (Keaton), who should have been in California, or somewhere, and it's all a bit of a giggle.

Writer/director Nancy Meyers is aiming at lite comedy, no harmful ingredients, such as satire, nothing sharp or dangerous. The plot has a safety valve - if it strays off the straight and narrow, Harry has a heart attack and they're back in the hospital, where Dr Mercer (Keanu Reeves), looking 25 years younger and so polite he squeaks, takes a fancy to Marin's mom, who happens to be a famous Broadway playwright.

You know what's going to happen and it does. Keaton hasn't had a role like this since The First Wives Club, except then she was sharing it with Goldie Hawn and Bette Midler. This time, she has a free passage and she's wonderful.

Nicholson can't keep up. Jack the Lad has become Jack the Flab and it matters in a movie about physical attraction and undersheet gymnastics. You have to believe that this conceited, randy, selfish philanderer is irresistable, otherwise why would an intelligent women in her early fifties give him bedspace, when the handsomest medic on Martha's Vineyard is sending her flowers?

And that's another thing. What does Keanu think he's doing, slumming it in a wrinkly rom-com, as superfluous eye candy?