Peter O'Toole adds another Great One to his list of indelible performances: as Maurice, a frail but defiantly horny London actor in his sunset, O'Toole lays bare his weathered face and sophisticated soul for a marvelous portrait of mortality. Maurice, who mostly hangs out counting pills and parsing obituaries with his fellow old-trouper Ian (Leslie Phillips), is roused to play Pygmalion one final time... not on stage, but in life, as Ian's gauche, callow niece (Jodie Whittaker) comes to live with her uncle. It would be very easy to turn this set-up into a heartwarming drama, but screenwriter Hanif Kureishi ("My Beautiful Laundrette") has never been one to warm hearts. Unless it's on his own terms. As Maurice takes his Venus under his frail wing and imparts a few old-school instructions to this junk-culture lass, Kureishi and director Roger Michell hit just the right notes of clumsiness, grace, and regret. Everybody's good in the film; Jodie Whittaker does nicely by the task of creating a rather ordinary young woman, and Vanessa Redgrave turns up as Maurice's patient, long-suffering ex (about whom there is nothing ordinary). But it's O'Toole's show, and the grand old actor gives a performance without a hint of grandness, except where it might fit. When he sighs a valedictory, "There really isn't anything else," you know a life's experiences and mistakes are distilled in the wisdom. "--Robert Horton"