GIVE HARRY DEAN STANTON HIS FUCKING OSCAR.

“Lucky” was never the first word that came to mind when you saw Harry Dean Stanton. On the contrary, it always seemed like he had survived something terrible. Even in the movies he shot during the ’60s and ’70s, it already looked like 90 years of life had swept through him like a windstorm, leaving just enough skin on his bones to keep the cigarette smoke from blowing out through his teeth. Stanton wasn’t cast as lucky men, but as men who appeared to have been sucked dry at some point along the way. He was typecast that way from birth, a living synonym for emptiness, and his hollowed out performance in “Paris, Texas” would eventually seal the deal.

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MKE Film Fest #2

The most fitting final film in the history of the movies. A work of failing bodies and the minds which wrestle with timid physicality.

just sobbing... love you
longtime, Mr. Stanton;
rest peacefully, good sir.

65/100

A.V. Club review. Not since Altman kicked right after Prairie Home Companion have we seen such a perfect cinematic epitaph.

A wise and wistful love letter from one remarkable character actor to another, John Carroll Lynch’s “Lucky” returns 90-year-old Harry Dean Stanton to the dusty desert environs he shuffled through in 1984’s “Paris, Texas,” and offers the rawboned legend one of the best roles he’s had since. Beginning as a broad comedy before blossoming into a wry meditation on death and all the things we leave behind (a transition that kicks into gear when one of Stanton’s old friends shows up and steals the show), Lynch’s directorial debut is a wisp of a movie, blowing across the screen like a tumbleweed, but it’s also the rare portrait of mortality that’s both fun and full of life.

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GIVE HARRY DEAN STANTON HIS FUCKING OSCAR ALREADY

and while we’re at it: john carrol lynch, david lynch, and the writers.

i’ve been dealing with my own existential and nihilistic thoughts for the past couple weeks, trying to figure out death, but lucky has it right. you just have to smile.

Im Hafen 2 Open Air.

Feels like something akin to living wake for Harry Dean Stanton (even David Lynch is here!) but it's not like the legendary character actor didn't deserve one. The kind of intimate, low key character study that all cantankerous atheists should hope to go out on.

Comparions to Paterson are apt, but I liked this better than Paterson. I don't think Lynch (John Carroll, not David) quite has the formal chops to make this material really sing, and even the screenplay is only like 80% there as far as capturing something really special, but I appreciated the effort. David Lynch's limitations as an actor have never been more apparent, but I love David Lynch and I love his character so never mind. The movie feels, more than anything else, like a lovely This Is Your Life episode for Harry Dean Stanton, in which Lynch, Tom Skerritt, Ed Begley Jr., etc. send him off to that great unknown. Would have been a great swan song for him; too bad it's not actually his final film.

Inspirational.

no performer ever got me more excited to see them than dean stanton. watching paris, texas when i was fourteen, i was struck by the wondering eyes, and face masking what seemed like real pain of a character's who's world i'd become pretty familiar with in my own life. when my dad first showed me repo man his portrait of a man's who's code was falling apart struck me more deeply than it probably should have. his presence in fire walk with me nearly send me out of my seat, it was like seeing an old friend in a realm which was totally unfamiliar. watching lucky felt like the film he always deserved to star in. one that put the humanity of all his performances centre stage, as well making sure it found its way into all the characters Lucky is lucky enough to meet in his final moments. miss ya dude.

Pretty cheesy chin-up message in the end, but Harry Dean's gravitas adds real depth. I love Beth Grant so much. More Beth Grant in everything.

An interesting insight into the life of a man trying to accept the end of existence. Also David Lynch crying over a tortoise.

Well made. Splendidly acted. David Lynch talks about a turtle and is delightful. 

Harry Dean Stanton reminds us one last time why he’s such an incredible actor. He is effortlessly good. 

Not my cup of tea. But I get the love for it.

Harry Dean Stanton gradúa, con honores, las reflexiones sobre soledad y mortalidad que siempre le imprimió a sus personajes.

Enhorabuena el debut directorial de John Carroll Lynch, quien evidentemente le aprendió una cosa o dos a los Coen tras actuar como su personaje más cálido (en Fargo). Directo a lo mejor del año.