Long, pointless, rambling movie starring a wizened and disturbingly wrinkled Michael Douglas, as a relentless philanderer who decides to pursue and bed countless young women after his doctor tells him there may be something wrong with his heart. The hours slowly stumble by as we are subjected to unsavoury images of Douglas 'seducing' countless women, in a bid to show off his 'technique' garnered from years of sexual experience. As expected, his life ends up in tatters when he can't find work, can't pay the rent, is forbidden contact with his grandson, and is turned down by a woman. Not really sure what one's meant to make of the anticlimactic, obvious, and rather lazy ending other than that maybe he finally realizes the shallowness of his ways. Frankly I didn't care what happened to him in the end and felt it would have been more exciting if his heart had exploded in glorious Technicolour.
Review of Solitary Man
