In turning his attention to the tricky ground of near-geriatric sexual desire, David Frankel (The Devil Wears Prada) also turns to the woman who gave him an Oscar nomination by association. Thus Meryl Streep finds herself opposite straight-faced Tommy Lee Jones on Steve Carrell's couch. He's a couples counsellor, she's Kay, a woman who has decided that after thirty one years, her stale marriage to Jones's curmudgeonly Arnold needs work. It soon becomes clear that they're the only hope Hope Springs has.

Working from a rather prosaic, Nora Ephron-lite script by relative newcomer Vanessa Taylor, Frankel has his work cut out ensuring this didn't fail on launch. Lacking the edge of his earlier work, Frankel injects interest by way of casting, Jones and Streep are effortless to watch, clearly enjoying the opportunity to work together and relishing in new found chemistry. It's said that the therapy sessions were unscripted and shot in one take and knowing that gives the film some life.

Yet there's only so much to run with, and the inevitability of Taylor's narrative (and the director's over reliance on cloying pop songs) renders even their best work routine. Granted there's some honesty found in the revelations to which Kay and Arnold come, even if they're not especially inspired ones, along with some fine moments with the couple prior to counselling. From no other reason than lazy habit, Arnold has become a penny-pinching, controlling bully whom Jones gives a nasty menace. It's unsettling to watch.

But overall, Hope Springs is neither new nor inspirational and quickly runs through the formula as Kay and Arnold learn to love again, connecting dots as it goes. Older couples willing to overlook the patronising tone will find some been-there appeal, most others are simply left with the distressing image of Jones and Streep getting frisky.

// COLIN FRASER
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