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Book Club: The Next Chapter – movie review

Book Club: The Next Chapter is a feel-good sequel to the 2018 film Book Club. It concerns the ongoing fate of the four women at the centre of the original as they undertake a special girls’ trip.

Vivian (Jane Fonda), perpetually single, has just been asked for her hand in marriage by her long-term, suave boyfriend Arthur (Don Johnson). But before the nuptials, Carol (Mary Steenburgen), puts it to the others that they should make good on a promise made decades earlier to travel to Italy. Mind you, she is worried about her husband Bruce (Craig T. Nelson), who has just had bypass surgery. Former judge Sharon (Candice Bergen) isn’t too keen because she has an ageing cat to care for, but soon that is a non-issue. And for Diane (Diane Keaton), who is in a loving relationship with Mitchell (Andy Garcia), she still hasn’t disposed of her dead husband’s ashes.

During the ensuing bachelorette holiday, the four have a series of adventures. They encounter an Italian policeman (Giancarlo Giannini), a smooth-talking, retired professor (Hugh Ousmane) and a chef (Vincent Riotta), Carol’s old flame. Like the first chapter, Book Club 2 is written by Bill Holderman and Erin Simms, with direction by the former.

The film starts with promise. Some of the interactions between the women while they are on Zoom during COVID lockdown are genuinely laugh-out-loud funny. Then, the picture hits a roadblock, as time is wasted getting them to agree to holiday together, which was always going to happen, from the moment it was mentioned. For much of the remainder of the movie, virtually everything is signposted. Stolen luggage … tick. Romantic encounters … tick. Stunning landscapes and landmarks (and, I assure you, they really are stunning) … tick. And so on.

The whole thing is manufactured and predictable. Where are the unexpected plot twists … the genuine surprises? Sure, the narrative comes from the apparently never-ending bank of sanguine material, but it seems like such a waste of top-notch talent. These are some of the finest actors of a generation, often delivering a succession of corny and, at times, sexually charged one liners. It almost appears as if aside from a cadre of British actors, women get to 60, 70 and beyond and the industry all but abandons them. They are left to deal with scripts that would feel more at home in a B-grade telemovie. Why?

Surely there is an audience for intelligent, engaging, entertaining, thought-provoking cinema involving our third generation. And “no” that doesn’t rule out comedy or romance. The problem is when the humour falls flat – as it often does – what results is little more than cringeworthy. To be fair, I feared that before seeing the movie, so I suppose you could say I wasn’t disappointed.

Firmly in “chick flick” territory (which, I should quickly add, I often warm to), Book Club: The Next Chapter is a very nice-looking film with little substance that some are likely to appreciate.

Alex First

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