The Bucket List Blu-ray delivers great video and solid audio, but overall it's a mediocre Blu-ray release
Corporate billionaire Edward Cole (Jack Nicholson) and working class mechanic Carter Chambers (Morgan
Freeman) are worlds apart. At a crossroads in their lives, they share a hospital room and discover they have two
things in common: a desire to spend the time they have left doing everything they ever wanted to do before
they "kick the bucket" and an unrealized need to come to terms with who they are. Together they embark on
the road trip of a lifetime, becoming friends along the way and learning to live life to the fullest.
In short, no. Well, let me clarify that. There have been some fantastic films about characters facing
death and choosing to find meaning and joy in their remaining days—Kurasawa's Ikiru is
almost certainly the best—but The Bucket List is not one of them. Thematically, yes, there
are some similarities to Akira's classic, but the comparison ends there. In execution, The Bucket
List is baldly manipulative and emotionally obtuse, a shameless tear-jerker that's more
saccharine than a pitcher of my grandma's Sweet 'N' Low-laden iced tea. Roger Ebert, who has
come face to face with his own mortality after years of struggling with thyroid issues,
uncharacteristically ripped the movie apart, writing that, "The Bucket List thinks dying of
cancer is a laff riot followed by a dime-store epiphany." I don't think there's any better way to
describe how the film commingles get-'r-done-before-you-die antics and shameless schmaltz.
Next on the list: Play board games in a massive safari tent.
"I believe that you measure yourself by the people who measured themselves by you," says
Morgan Freeman in yet another of his characteristically god-like omniscient narrator voiceovers.
He's setting us up for a tale of two terminally ill men who unexpectedly become best buds and
change what's left of one another's lives for the better. Freeman plays Carter Chambers, an aging
auto mechanic and trivia buff holed up in a hospital room while he undergoes experimental
chemo. Sharing the room is brain tumor patient Edward Cole (Jack Nicholson), a ridiculously
wealthy health insurance magnate who, in one of the most contrived turns in a movie loaded
with contrivances, actually owns the hospital and is backed into a PR corner by his own "two beds
to a room, no exceptions" rule. Cancer is the only thing the two men have in common. Carter is
a meek and eloquent spinner of homespun wisdom, a family man who turned town a chance at
becoming a history professor because he was "broke, black, and with a baby on the way." Cole,
on the other hand, is a cantankerous old loner who only takes pleasure in his rare coffee—
harvested from the feces of the pigs that eat the beans—and believes that, in hospitals, "more
people die of visitors than diseases." When Cole finds the crumpled up "bucket list" that Carter
penned—a list of things he always wished he could do before he died, like "witness something
truly magestic"—Cole offers to bankroll the project, providing they spice it up with some more
adventurous elements.
From there, it's off to go skydiving, get tattoos, race Shelby Mustangs, sit serenely atop an
Egyptian pyramid, ride motorbikes on the Great Wall of China, hunt lions in Africa, etc., etc., jet-
setting around the world in Cole's magnificently appointed private plane. The two men are on a
go-for-broke hootenanny, living it up in the few months they have left, but for every item
checked off of the list, there's a twinge of sadness and regret. Carter's wife (Beverly Todd) can't
come to terms with why her husband would be globe-hopping with a total stranger instead of
spending time with his family, and Cole has long since been separated from his daughter and
grandkid after a disastrous familial faux pas. The moral, spelled out for us like skywriting—there's
no existential subtlety, as in Ikiru—is that there's no use wasting time in making things
right, living your dreams, and sharing joy. A worthy sentiment, to be sure, but one that gets
mired in increasingly sticky sap as the film wears on. Working off of Justin Zackham's script—a
soppy affair that might as well have been written on triple-ply Kleenex—director Rob Reiner
pushes the characters through all the requisite joys and sorrows, but the emotions feel mass-
manufactured, played out in a sequence of heart-tugging, eye-rolling bromides.
If there's any joy to be had watching this feel-good film about imminent death, it's in seeing
Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson snap, argue, and finally connect, turning a fairly straight odd
couple routine into a modestly believable friendship. Reiner wisely gives ample time at the
beginning of the movie for us to soak in the somber hospital vibe and see these two characters
find commonality before zipping off for their zany adventures. Here's the thing, though: how
many times have we seen Freeman as the purveyor of folksy humor and advice, looking dignified
and solemn, owlishly doling out his hard-earned wisdom? And when, in the past 20 years, has
Nicholson not been an irascible, wild-eyed grouch, horndogging it up with the ladies while
cynically dismissing any attempts at real intimacy? Talk about typecast. A smarter film would've
either reversed the roles—a challenge for the actors and an interesting switcheroo for us—or
found two less expected faces. There are no surprises here. Like the characters themselves,
The Bucket List is only marching toward an inevitable conclusion.
The Bucket List dropped on Blu-ray in 2008 with a nicely detailed 1080p, VC-1 encoded
transfer, lightly cropped to 1.78:1 from the film's original 1.85:1 aspect ratio. As you'd hope from
such a recent film, the source print is pristine, and it doesn't look like any unnecessary digital
tweaks like edge enhancement or DNR have been made during the transfer process. Aside from the
few highly artificial CGI backgrounds used periodically—the Taj Mahal and the pyramids come most
readily to mind—the image is filmic and natural, with a thin layer of grain, tight contrast, and solid
black levels that leave plenty of room for shadow delineation. Clarity is consistent throughout, with
enough fine detail to let us examine every pore, wrinkle, and freckle on Morgan Freeman's well-
worn face, and notice the prickly bits of stubble that jut from Jack Nicholson's chin. The film's color
scheme is warm and inviting, even when our protags are confined to bed in their bright blue
hospital gowns, and when they finally hit the road together, the palette really opens up with vivid
primaries and bold sunset gradients. Skin tones appropriately fluctuate with the characters' health—
Cole looks like an unmasked Darth Vader when he's staring himself down in the mirror, but his trip
with Carter puts some color into both of their cheeks. Finally, I didn't spot any compression-related
issues, like banding, macroblocking, or wayward artifacts.
The Bucket List was released before Warner was fully onboard with equipping their titles
with lossless audio, so stringent audiophiles may turn their noses up at the included Dolby Digital
5.1 surround track. That said, I didn't really find anything wrong with this mix. The film is largely
dialogue driven, and all of the actors' voices are clear and balanced, accurately reflecting the
acoustics of their surroundings. Composer Marc Shaiman's score comes out occasionally to
emotionally season the scenes, and when it does, it sounds quiet but just fine, with ample detail
and presence. Surround usage is extremely minimal, essentially limited to bled music and a few
obligatory cross-channel effects when Cole and Carter's adventures eventually start revving up.
There's really not much to say about the track except that it's lossy, yes, but it sounds more than
adequate for what it is and does everything the film needs it to do.
Writing a Bucket List (SD, 4:53)
Screenwriter Justin Zackham discusses his own bucket list, plus his book, which features lists by
many celebrities.
Rob Reiner Interviews the Stars (SD, 21:44 and 16:48)
In the most substantial special feature, director Rob Reiner interviews Jack Nicholson in person
and Morgan Freeman via satellite, and both titans are quite candid about how and why they were
attracted to the project and how they developed their characters.
Music Video: "Say" by John Mayer (SD, 4:01)
Your typical movie music video tie-in, mixed with footage from the film.
Making of "Say" (SD, 5:38)
John Mayer perhaps overstates how important his is to the final scene of the film.
Pop-Up Trivia Track
In lieu of a proper commentary track, we get the factual tidbits of pop-up trivia.
The Bucket List is filled with more syrupy excess than all of Canada's maple-producing
provinces. I got a minor kick seeing Freeman and Nicholson go head to head here, but even this
element of the movie is tainted by the fact that these guys are playing the same sort of characters
they always play. Still, if you enjoy the film, it gets a strong high definition presentation on Blu-ray,
with a small handful of special features to sweeten the deal.
Warner Home Video has announced that they will release the Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman comedy 'The Bucket List' for Blu-ray on June 10th, day-and-date with the DVD release. Specs have not been announced at this time, but you can expect the usual VC-1 video ...
