Pierce Brosnan proves poignant in a nostalgic tale of World War II

A cross between a road trip dramedy, an emotional memorabilia, and a nostalgic look at the glory of World War II, “The Last Rifleman” wants to be many things. Unfortunately, Kevin Fitzpatrick’s script fails to give any of these threads the dramatic punch or character specification they require. Terry Loane directs everything with a supple but rather indifferent hand, unable to overcome the limitations of the script. As the veteran referred to in the title, Pierce Brosnan is the main reason to watch the film.

Brosnan is 92-year-old Artie Crawford, living in a nursing home in Northern Ireland and experiencing simultaneously poignant and disturbing flashbacks to World War II, when he fought alongside his best friend and fell in love with the woman he eventually married. Faced with the end of his life, he decides to return to Normandy to visit the place that haunts him in his dreams. Despite the distractingly heavy makeup that ages him by two decades, Brosnan brings a warm and steadfast performance to the film. He remains watchable, no matter what silly contrivances the plot throws at him. It’s a shame that the film keeps moving away from the star, because it would have been much stronger if it had focused on his character.

On his way to France, Artie relies on the kindness of strangers. Even though his passport has expired and he is diabetic, he still manages to get by. As they cross the canal, he meets a nice French woman (Clémence Poésy) who hides him in her fifth wheel. There is a friendly boy (Samuel Bottomley) who helps him hitchhike. There is even a likeable German (Jürgen Prochnow) who was once a member of the Hitler Youth. Artie’s pleasant encounters with each of these one-dimensional characters serve primarily as vehicles for plot exposition.

To fill in the gaps in Artie’s backstory, Loane repeatedly resorts to flashbacks. They are so numerous and indistinguishable that they lose their dramatic power. In one scene, The Last Rifleman briefly comes to life when John Amos joins Brosnan as another World War II veteran. Fitzpatrick gives him the script’s only poignant line about how these older men “live with ghosts.” Amos’ performance evokes the seriousness that the numerous flashbacks couldn’t muster. But even then he has to endure a few unfunny jokes about age and drinking whiskey before he gets the space to express his heartfelt feelings alongside Brosnan. Understandably, the film doesn’t want to be a lazy, sad story, but these silly jokes and paper-thin characterizations don’t help.

Additionally, an unnecessary amount of time is spent in the nursing home as the administration tries to figure out how Archie escaped and where he is. The audience is forced to follow the humorless attempts of Artie’s friend (Ian McElhinney) not to reveal his escape plans. Somehow there’s also a subplot about a journalist (Desmond Eastwood) who follows Archie as he tries to break this story. Since the film was inspired by a true story, there may be some real-world parallels to this subplot, which the film reduces to cringeworthy scenes of the journalist uncomfortably trying to sleep on the plane and unable to due to his knowledge of French is to drive your rental car using GPS. The passionate power of Brosnan’s performance is diluted by these monotonous excerpts from the main narrative.

At the heart of The Last Rifleman is a simple and straightforward story that is simultaneously nostalgic for a finer, more morally straightforward moment in history. There is also a tender love story about growing older and living with grief. But the filmmakers don’t trust the audience to deal with these simple elements alone, so they add simple humor and understated characters, leaving their capable lead actor stuck in a boring film. Whatever life Brosnan is trying to inject into the proceedings is undermined by everything surrounding his performance.