Being in the public eye is quite an experience – as Andy Warhol famously quipped, we will all have our fifteen minutes of fame. In the case of a select few, they’ll be able to reap the rewards of this momentary prosperity later on in life, earning one of the many lifetime achievement awards that are thrown out by nearly any organization with a handful of members and a theatre to host an event. This may sound disparaging, but it is one of the many quirks of Hollywood in both the classical and contemporary sense, which is seemingly built on the need to not only recognize new talent but also honour the artists of yesteryear, particularly those who have stuck around for a few decades, growing old in an industry that often underlines who obsessed it is with youth. It’s the foundation for The Last Movie Star, a charming comedy written and directed by Adam Rifkin, who tells the story of a faded film actor who accepts an invitation to receive a lifetime achievement award from an arbitrary film festival, travelling across the country to attend the event, only to realize it was not what he bargained for when setting off on this voyage. A quaint and lovable independent comedy that primarily functions as a starring vehicle for one of the great actors of his generation, and told with the kind of spirited candour that we don’t often find in showbusiness comedies, The Last Movie Star is a tremendous gem of a film.

Rifkin is a director whose name many may not know, but who has directed some films that we are certainly familiar with, for better or worse. The Last Movie Star is his attempt at something slightly more serious after the majority of his output has been more family-oriented, comedic fare that may be entertaining but possesses very little artistic merit in most instances. Rifkin, who has been involved in the industry for a few decades, weaponizes his knowledge of the world of film and constructs a fascinating character study about someone looking back at their life in the public eye while aiming to reconcile the adoration they received from critics, audiences and their peers, with the emptiness of knowing that this means nothing if one doesn’t find themselves fulfilled by the work, which is unfortunately an all too common occurrence for many entertainers, who grow so used to being famous, they sometimes forget that there is a life beyond global recognition and the blinding lights of the media. The Last Movie Star is a much more self-reflective look at Hollywood and the concept of fame, and many of its ideas seem almost too intricate for something quite as small as this – it is a sprawling epic told through a very intimate, quietly defiant lens by a director who has carved out a decent niche for himself in making films set within the film industry (examples include the ill-fated Welcome to Hollywood and the ambitious but overblown Director’s Cut) – and he does prove himself to have a decent amount of prowess as a storyteller, making a film that may seem conventional, but has many details that make it a much more elevated work.

The Last Movie Star joins a long legacy of films that are designed to be vehicles for major actors. It’s a common trend – a young filmmaker has an ambitious idea for a film about Hollywood (or something adjacent to the film industry), with a protagonist that is usually on the other end of middle age, and a concerted effort is made to cast particular actors (normally those of a certain age themselves), to the point where a lot of these films function as riffs on the actors themselves, employing many of their real-life qualities in crafting this semi-fictional character. Here, we have the great Burt Reynolds playing Vic Edwards, a former action star who has seen a considerable loss in popularity, leading him to spend his old age wandering around Los Angeles, expending whatever time he has left on seemingly trivial activities – and while Reynolds was more active than the character he is playing here, The Last Movie Star is constructed to make use of his persona, which it does to wonderful effect. It’s not the first instance of such a film drawing out a strong and self-reflective performance from a legendary actor, but this one stands out because it was released only a few months before Reynolds died, making this his final major role – and if there was ever a great swan song for an actor of his stature, it would be this one. The entire film pays tribute to a man who defined machismo and had bona fide movie star charisma, almost to the point of it becoming his entire personality, with the wisecracking, street-smart character becoming his trademark. The Last Movie Star isn’t a challenging film, but it affords Reynolds the chance to give one final incredible performance, which he does without any hesitation, turning in some of his strongest work – but with a story like this, that was always an inevitability.

There are many reasons to find The Last Movie Star to be a thoroughly effective and very charming comedy, specifically because this is a film that knows exactly what it needs to be, and how it can achieve certain ideas without putting in too much labour since it occupies a space in which most of the work has already been done, it just needed to be shaped into something interesting. Reynolds’ performance is fantastic, and he is doing solid work – but the film is not solely centred on him, as much as it serves as a vehicle for the actor. The film is a poignant elegy to a lost generation of movie stars, the people who shone brighter than nearly any other generation, but have either receded into some kind of retirement, or departed entirely, leaving behind strong legacies, but sometimes at the expense of the more meaningful aspects of life. As we’ve already noted, Hollywood tends to like stories about either triumphant stars at their peak, or those who have fallen and are struggling against the odds to get back up – the idea of a 100-minute comedy about an old man waxing poetic about his successes is not necessarily the epitome of exciting cinema in a traditional sense, but it is done exceptionally well by Rifkin, who was using a lot of insider knowledge to tell this story, which is much more nuanced as a result. It’s perhaps not the most consistently effective film, but it has its moments of genuine pathos, so it’s tough to not feel something when seeing how he uses the material.

Whether as a swan song for its wonderful and legendary leading actor or as an insightful satire of Hollywood and its tendency to place its older citizens in a position where their often tranquil retirements are shaken up by industry events centred around the dreaded concept of a lifetime achievement award, The Last Movie Star is a wonderful film. It may seem like a relatively solid, straightforward comedy on the surface – there’s not much outside of Reynolds’ performance that is even worth mentioning (not that the rest of the actors are bad, they just barely register, being entirely supplementary to their famous co-star), and it sometimes feels like it is depending on a set of conventional tricks to tell a story that we have seen in some form or another on many occasions. However, what the film lacks in originality it makes up for in heart and humour – when allowed to go broad, the film chooses a more subtle approach, and the brand of comedy, while very funny, is more intent on drawing attention to more intimate aspects of the relationship between someone who saw every side of fame, and is not at the point where he has to negotiate his relationship with his status. It’s a well-made, very complex and wonderfully endearing comedy that is much more than just a run-of-the-mill showbusiness satire, having depth and scope that few other films could ever hope to achieve, which is mildly surprising for something that has flown so under the radar as this, which just proves that it is a true gem that deserves much more than it has received so far.