Senior moment how to#

It would be thoughtless to write this off as entirely Shatner’s show. Then there’s the mysterious Diego Lozano (Esai Morales), whose relation to Caroline gives the film a touch of mystery that, unless it’s your first time at the movies, shouldn’t pose much of a puzzle. Even Pablo returns to act as Victor’s driver.

Senior moment how to#

He’s able to help solve the mystery behind the bird in the broken clock, but when it comes to getting his license back, he needs the help of Rock Kendall (Don McManus), a huckster who doesn’t so much cheat as he teaches Victor how to best the system at its own game. “I must have driven past this place a hundred times,” Victor tells Caroline after stumbling into her Cuckoo Cafe. The strength of these two women is somewhat overshadowed by the more lecherous exchanges Victor and pal Sal (Christopher Lloyd) share over Kristen and her model friends. Given one’s generally low expectations of material such as this, both Caroline and Kristen are surprisingly well-written characters. When asked point blank why a man his age still chases younger women, he backs down a bit with, “I don’t want to come off as a chauvinist pig.” “Pigs are very smart,” is her pointed reply. Shatner sweats charm, so much so that he persuades her to join him for a few drinks with his friends. There’s Kristen (Katrina Bowden), the swimsuit model who poses opposite his Porsche on the cover of Sweet Ride magazine. She isn’t the first woman we’ve seen draw Victor’s eye. His cry of outrage echoes throughout the Coachella Valley: “Victor Martin does not take the bus! Not now, not ever!” To spoiled Victor, public transportation is for losers, old people, and, unbeknownst to him at the time, Caroline.

You know, the same schmuck who, as a result of the incident, had his car impounded and license temporarily revoked.

She didn’t realize it at the time, but the Porsche doing donuts beneath her window, the silver one that came close to causing a fatality, was being piloted by the man whom she was courting. One can’t really call Caroline’s (Jean Smart) first encounter with Victor a “meet cute.” By then, director Giorgio Serafini and his writers have done an ace job of drawing their characters together they’re unknowingly sharing space in close, ever-narrowing proximity. She lets him off with a warning, followed by a bit of advice: there’s a new Judge in town, and she’s gunning for speed-addicted seniors driving souped-up sardine cans. It’s no surprise that the local traffic cop and Victor are on a first-name basis. Spying a police car up the road keeps Pablo’s foot on the brake, while Victor’s blast off burns a strip of rubber into the asphalt. (Even if it’s not true, in order to help grease a path through some of the film’s more fortuitous encounters, it’s best we go with it.) On a good day, that could lead us to supporting characters like Pablo Torres (Carlos Miranda), the sweet-tempered guy in the cherry Chevy Impala next to Victor, waiting for the light to change while deciding whether or not to accept the crazy old man’s invitation to a game of chicken. The retired, never married NASA test pilot calls Palm Springs home, and as submitted, it’s a sleepy desert resort community where everybody knows everybody. Victor Martin (Shatner) plans to live out his golden years with the love of his life, a vintage silver Porsche. (It was the only one of Corman’s independent productions that failed to turn a profit and one that I cannot recommend highly enough.) Shatner turned 90 last week - he doesn’t look a day over 65 - and I can’t think of a better way to celebrate the milestone than by sharing in his Senior Moment. But my appreciation for William Shatner dates back to 1962, when he played a “social reformer” - a white supremecist weaving a campaign of hate through the deep South in Roger Corman’s The Intruder. Having never made it all the way through an episode of Star Trek, I bailed on the big screen bump-ups after Ricardo Montalban bit the dust. Senior Moment: the only thing worse for William Shatner is a revoked license to drive.Ĭonfession is good for the soul: campy sci-fi has never been my bag, particularly when it comes bearing the stamp of network TV.