54926: Thelma

There are many quotable moments in The Way of the Gun, most not fit for polite company. The one that I think about most is from elderly gangster Joe Sarno, played by James Caan: “The only thing you can guess about a broken down old man is that he is a survivor.” That word is loaded. “Survivor.” What does it mean to survive? Survival conjured up ideas of overcoming adversity, escaping death, maybe getting knocked around by the world, but continuing to breathe.

Thelma is story of survivors. Survivors like June Squibb’s 93 year-old Thelma, who is like a kettlebell sewed up inside a teddy bear. She presents a soft and gentle surface that, when pressed, gives way to guts of absolute iron. Then there's Richard Roundtree’s Ben, a similarly rock-ribbed old timer, with an additional layer of “I’m too old for this shit” painted on top. Together, they’re a delightful duo, perfectly mismatched for an onscreen adventure.

Writer/director Josh Margolin takes the pair on a city-spanning quest to retrieve $10,000 in cash that Thelma is scammed out of early in the movie, and uses their quest to write a love letter to the action movies of the 70s and 80s as well as to his own grandmother, Thelma, upon whom the story is based. Margolin’s affection for both is self-evident. The film is peppered with nods to the tropes of action movies, from useless cops to a pounding Blacksploitation-inspired soundtrack to the actual line of dialog, “The less you know, the better.” The tone is serious, in the vein of Beverly Hills Cop, drawing humor from grounded reactions to ridiculous situations. But, obviously, with fewer car chases (not none) and gunplay (again, not none).

The cast of Thelma is wonderful, with a tri-generational dynamic that gently takes shots at aimless slacker youth, infantilizing helicopter parents, and the DGAF mentality that comes with a certain age. The dynamic is driven in equal parts by the love, devotion, and anxiety each generation feels for the other two. Shout outs to Parker Posey and Clark Gregg who bring incredible humor to the “sandwich generation,” despite being not that much older than me, and Fred Hechinger who delivers such a warm and gentle performance as Daniel, the best kind of a “grandma’s boy.” Watching the generations shift and bounce off of each other was delightful, and would have been just as at home in a soon-to-be-classic Thanksgiving movie.

In one sense, Thelma fits neatly into the standard format of action/adventure/revenge films. Thelma is cheated by scammers and resolves to get justice. She gathers the resources she’ll need for this quest, picks up a partner, and sets off on her adventure. Whether or not she succeeds is immaterial (and I won’t spoil anything about it), because she has scored a victory against time simply by undertaking her quest. By flexing her muscles, hidden beneath a patina of quilted jackets and trifocal lenses, she is keeping the wolves from her door for another day. Thelma presents us with several alternate paths for our hero through encounters with her friends—such as living alone in a dark, roach-filled house or sharing her days in a surprisingly bright and cheerful assisted living home—but Thelma rejects those endings, at least for now.

The Thelma we see is independent, defiantly engaging with computers and email and Instagram to varying degrees of success. She tells Daniel, “I didn’t expect to get so old,” a sentiment I think most of us would second. She then spends the rest of the movie doing her absolute utmost to not be so old. Or maybe she’s trying to change her understanding of what old really is. Ultimately, Thelma is at peace with herself and her world. Things will change, and she will continue to adapt. More importantly, the world is better off with Thelma in it. As Daniel puts it, when responding to Thelma when she talks about getting old: “Well, I’m glad you did.” It’s something we’ll all get to do, if we’re lucky enough. And if we’re really lucky, we get to do it on our own terms, like Thelma.