One of the many fascinating quirks about the film industry is that if an actor puts in enough work early in their career, and maintains a level of decency and respectability, there comes a point where they are given carte blanche to spend their time however they see fit, without any risk of being viewed as a sellout or a shadow of their former selves, granted they don’t actively seek out lesser work. How joyful it has been over the past decade to see Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin – two of the most legendary performers of their generation, and a pair of actors that have quite literally earned the title of being cultural icons – embrace the fact that they have reached a point where everything they do is going to draw in an audience, based on their notable stature within the industry, which comes after over half a century of solid, iconic work. While they haven’t abandoned giving serious performances entirely (still occasionally doing more complex work), most of what they do now tends to be easygoing, populist fare built entirely on their personality. At this point, they don’t need to provide any explanation – they love working together, and they’re bound by an ironclad friendship. Their fourth project together (following their first pairing on 9 to 5 over forty years ago, as well as recent efforts like Grace and Frankie and 80 for Brady) is Moving On, which serves to be yet another pairing of these iconic actors, as well as a reunion for Tomlin with director Paul Weitz, with whom she has worked on a few occasions, most notably in her career-best performance in Grandma, a terrific showcase for her talents. A slightly more sombre film in terms of the story, but still one that features an incredible amount of humour, pathos and honesty, Moving On is a wonderful comedy that reminds us of some important conversations, assimilating them together into this vibrant and meaningful existential narrative.

There has been a recent wave of films that assemble a cast of veteran actors and put them in a simple but effective scenario, one that may not necessarily be revolutionary, but exists to showcase their charm and give them leading roles in an industry that isn’t as kind to its elders as it perhaps out to be, which makes these valiant efforts, and quite profitable ones, as they tend to do quite well commercially. Both Fonda and Tomlin have done their fair share of these films, and at a surface glance, Moving On seems to be quite similar – it’s a pairing of two veterans in a story that can be summarized in a single sentence: two lifelong friends pair up to kill the husband of a recently-deceased friend as a punishment for his wrongdoing. It’s a morbid concept in any other context, but with Fonda and Tomlin at the helm, it instantly becomes the foundation for a delightful comedy. It shouldn’t be a surprise that both actors are incredible, with this being their best work in terms of depth of performance in years – interestingly, the last time either was working at such a complex level was eight years ago, when Fonda took a small but memorable role in Paolo Sorrentino’s Youth, while Tomlin was in the aforementioned Grandma, perhaps the closest we will ever get to a modern-day Harold and Maude. This film offers them the chance to do some exceptional work, while never forcing them out of their comfort zone – Fonda plays the well-composed, sophisticated modern woman, while Tomlin is the free spirit who has never quite allowed her days as a hippie to subside. Both are wonderful, and their chemistry (which has never been called into question) has rarely been stronger, both actors bringing out the best in one another and developing these roles to be a lot more complex than they would seem to be on the page. Weitz knew what he was doing when he wrote this film, tailoring the roles to the two actors and in the process giving them some truly solid work that showcases their enormous talents.

The best way to view Moving On is as a very funny film about serious issues. From the start, the film makes short work of establishing that, despite its jovial tone, it will most certainly be exploring deeper themes, some of which may come as a surprise to viewers expecting something more outrageous and less sombre. Like many similar films, Moving On is built on the dynamic between these two women of a certain age, with a lot of the humour coming from the hilarity of seeing two people in their mid-eighties engaging in behaviour that is not only unbecoming of someone in their twilight years, but mostly absurd to imagine. Yet, it comes across as oddly authentic, primarily because Weitz never leans too far into the absurdity, and instead tackles these themes with a genuine complexity and charm. There isn’t a shortage of films in which veteran actors discuss subjects such as mortality and ageing (which is intrinsically tied to these films by virtue of starring older actors, but even more potent in Moving On, which revolves around the theme of death in a major way), contracted with discussions on sexuality and identity, which are slightly more rare, but still not unheard of in such films. The manner in which this film seems willing to explore these themes with respect and depth, but not without losing the delightful humour that makes it so entertaining is incredibly impressive, and one of the many reasons it is not difficult to fall victim to the magnetic charm that constantly settles atop this film, making it wildly entertaining but also incredibly deep. A film like Moving On needs to have the perfect calibration between pathos and humour, and while his work may not always reflect it, Weitz certainly understands the merits of a simple but well-told story that takes an honest look at various subjects without being too cutting edge or stirring any kind of unnecessary controversy, which is a major reason why this film works as well as it does, since its perspective is worldly but still very entertaining, which is a terrific merit for such a narrative.

The transition between comedy and drama in Moving On is terrific, and it gives the film so much credence to seeing something so simple yet effective coming about from a relatively straightforward concept. The majority of what makes this such an impactful film can be found in how it handles its emotions – there were many opportunities for it to be outrageous and overtly wacky (and there are certainly some very funny moments), but it is a most serious piece of storytelling, particularly in the themes that are being explored, which are viewed with a genuine empathy that drives the entire narrative. In particular, Moving On is a touching depiction of friendship – not the kind that has withstood the test of time (since both characters in this film have been partially estranged for years, the occasion of their friend’s death being the event that brings them together after a while, and the catalyst for the reignition of their companionship), but rather those that drift apart and then come together, whether by chance or as a result of a particular event, the latter of which is the foundation for this film. What starts as quite a charming comedy eventually becomes a quiet and meditative examination of grief, not only for a person but also for the past as a whole, with both protagonists struggling to realize that it isn’t only wisdom that comes with age, but also the realization that change is inevitable, and that loss is always going to become a factor in one’s life. The film is not afraid to have more serious conversations when it is necessary, and we find the director is willing to sacrifice the easygoing charm in favour of something deeper, which is on its own very admirable, especially when it touches on some very bleak themes, some of which are quite unsettling, but rendered as thoroughly charming in the context of the film, which both celebrates and critiques life and its many peculiarities.

Moving On is such a charming film, and it continuously manages to surprise us, which is quite a rare achievement for a film that is seemingly so simple, yet deeply provocative when it is required. There’s a level of humanity that drives the film and makes it so unnerving but beautiful, which is a frequent point of contention in many other works, but which is so effective and natural in this instance. Weitz is a peculiar filmmaker in the sense that he doesn’t quite have the authorial voice that many would assume, but rather leaps between genres, directing what interests him rather than adhering to a particular tone, which is admirable in itself. There is very little reason to not absolutely respect this film and everything that it represents, since there is a level of humanity that drives it which is beyond admirable, both formally and in terms of the story that is telling. It also helps that Weitz managed to work with two exceptionally strong actors, one of whom has actually developed into his muse (it has often been noted that after making Admission, Weitz was so taken by Tomlin, he wrote Grandma as a vehicle for her), and who commit entirely to the sometimes absurd premise, making it seem extremely authentic and perhaps even touching in some moments. Detailed in how it paints a vivid portrait of its characters and their various psychological and existential quandaries, and profoundly beautiful in how it showcases their friendship, there’s very little doubt that there is something valuable in every frame of this film, which is as funny as it is insightful, which is not as easy a combination to produce, especially not with a story seemingly so straightforward, but which ultimately becomes the starting point for this moving and adorably quaint dark comedy that finds the scathing wit in a poetic and touching story of life, death and everything in between.