Harry Dean Stanton plays an abrasive, borderline misanthropic, 90-year-old atheist who must come to terms with his own mortality in this low-key and at times poetic film by first-time director John Carroll Lynch. Through its slow pace and philosophical meanderings, the film has the ability to sweep you out of your stressful, 21st century life and make you experience the habits of a real old-timer: daily morning-exercises, crossword-puzzles and long walks just for the sake of walking. The many characters he meets on his walks around town may come off as plot-devices, but they have a certain charm nonetheless, including David Lynch as a tortoise-loving old man, Beth Grant as the owner of the local bar, and James Darren as her husband. The best scene Stanton shares here, however, is one with Tom Skerritt in which the two reminisce about their time as WWII soldiers.
It's hard not to view the character of Lucky as a dead-ringer for Stanton himself, and that gives the film a meta-weightiness that to fans of Stanton may elevate it an extra notch, seeing as Stanton died just before the film's release. At any rate, Lucky is more than a fitting swansong for the great character actor.