If the success of films such as The Best Exotic Marigold, Hotel, Quartet, and Philomena have proven anything, it’s that there is certainly an audience for films with older ensembles. One that perhaps isn’t being fully served. Romance and excitement aren’t just for teenagers and 20-somethings, and even though Hollywood may be a young person’s game, there’s clearly a desire for movies with elderly protagonists, too.

Thus, we have Le Week-End, a charming and comedic drama about an older couple, Nick (Jim Broadbent) and Meg (Lindsay Duncan), who travel to Paris for the first time since their honeymoon. Managing to pack in what feels like a month’s worth of mishaps into the span of one weekend, they struggle to relate to the locals, an old friend they run into (played by Jeff Goldblum), and each other.

However, Le Week-End wisely avoids relying on the tired “aren’t-old-people-kooky?” tropes that some films of this type resort to. Nick and Meg aren’t presented as figures to laugh at, and even though they aren’t always likeable characters, their struggles and frustrations feel earned. Director Roger Michell seems more interested in exploring the intricacies of how people relate to each other rather than aiming for more standard cinematic moments of revelation.

Along those lines, I appreciated how unflinchingly the conflicts in Nick and Meg’s relationship are presented; their conversations frequently turn from charming banter to petty bickering with no apparent explanation, yet it feels natural. Nick and Meg say some truly horrible things to each other at times, but it’s understood that this is simply how the couple operate and that they can easily bounce back.

Much of this understanding is thanks to the nuanced performances from both Broadbent and Duncan. Broadbent has long been a beloved stalwart of British cinema, and his performance in Le Week-End is every bit as charming and befuddled as you’d expect. However, it’s Duncan who truly steals the movie. She’s an actress who has appeared in many films and television shows, but often in supporting roles (see: About Time, Alice in Wonderland, etc.), so it’s a treat to see her get a character she can really sink her teeth into. Meg is a fascinating and complex woman, and Duncan effortlessly portrays a woman who Nick is both endlessly exasperated by and hopelessly in love with.

All of this said, Le Week-End does suffer a bit due to its light tone. There is a weight to the central relationship, and the movie does wade into some surprisingly complicated emotional territory, but it still always seems like the movie is hedging its bets a touch; even at Nick and Meg’s most dire moments of conflict, it feels as though their reconciliation is inevitable. Early on, it’s established that these people need each other and are willing to overlook a lot in one another, so the moments of tension or temptation that come later seem more like temporary bumps in their relationship rather than foundation-shaking reverberations.

Luckily, though, the performances are good enough and there’s just enough honesty in the screenplay to make Le Week-End an overall success. The film’s portrayal of everyday conversations and emphasis on travel call to mind the Before series, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to imagine Nick and Meg as Jesse and Celine a couple of franchise installments down the line. And, as is the case with Linklater’s films, the viewer’s enjoyment doesn’t come from following the simplistic plot, but rather from watching a small slice of life play out. There are a couple of standout scenes – in particular, a dinner table monologue from Broadbent later on – that cut surprisingly deep with stark honesty.

This is a movie that wins by letting its characters be complicated and messy. It’s occasionally a touch too twee for its own good, but as the credits began to roll, I found myself surprised by how much of the film had left a quiet impact on me.

Many of America’s favorite Presidents had what we’d call ‘personality’; those distinctions that established them in the hearts of those they served. Lincoln with his storytelling, Washington and his cherry tree antics, Clinton and his saxophone. The American public likes to see the personal sides of our Presidents; at least once they leave office that is. In Hyde Park on Hudson, however, we’re exposed to the intersection of President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s personal and professional lives, in a way that had me longing to theater hop to that little Spielberg film playing next door.

Hyde Park on Hudson is a based-in-reality story told from the perspective of Franklin D. Roosevelt’s 5th cousin, Margaret “Daisy” Suckly (played by Laura Linney), and takes place for the most part during the weekend that King George VI (Samuel West), along with his wife Queen Elizabeth (Olivia Coleman) became the first British Monarchs to visit America. The royal couple visit President Roosevelt at his mother’s home in upstate New York, Hyde Park, with the agenda of asking the President for the help of the United States when the inevitable World War breaks out.

Playing out as a confused farce, accidentally veering into melodrama, Hyde Park on Hudson introduces us to the many women in FDR’s life. As Daisy spends more time with her shining star of a cousin, she finds herself wrapped up in a world of romance and adventure she’s never experienced. And when their relationship becomes sexual (which happens so quickly we’ve hardly finished watching the opening credits, and which holds little historical evidence), she seems all too glad to have the attention of this, the most influential man in the world. Her naiveté to his ongoing relationships with his secretary, Missy (Elizabeth Marvel), another unseen woman (his much historically documented mistress, Lucy Mercer), and her dismissal of his friendly if not romantic marriage to Eleanor (played with perfection by Olivia Williams), would all make for interesting dramatic elements if it just wasn’t so obviously ill-suited for Laura Linney. I’d write it off as a casting issue except that she’s forced to narrate the entire film in childish tones, trying to heighten the stories elements with hyperbole and managing only to enhance just how un-impressive it all really is.

As the events of the weekend unfold, from dinner with the King and Queen, where everything seems to go wrong and the full moon garners the blame, to the American-style picnic where hot dogs are served to the horror of Her Majesty, Daisy starts to uncover that to be involved in the President’s life means sharing him with more than just the public. In the most off-putting scene of the film her dramatic reaction to the revelation that an unfaithful husband makes for an unfaithful lover takes such a dramatic turn it’s laughable.

Bill Murray is this film’s guiding light. He plays FDR with perfect execution, nailing his stiff New York drawl and subtle wisdom. As President Roosevelt, he’s warm and likable. As Franklin, the script portrays his personal life as that of a man who craved worship so much he took on mistresses flippantly and apparently with little thought to why these women appealed to him. And because of his age and physical situation, there’s no way not to interpret it as slightly pathetic and icky.

The characters most worth watching are the King and Queen, with all their British propriety and concern for their nation. The most brilliant scene of the film involves a candid conversation between FDR and King George. It seems historically unlikely, but is exactly the sort of anecdote we’d like to hear about a favorite President. How he played father-figure to a King.

Hyde Park on Hudson, while showing some of the affability of FDR, his goofy playful side, dwells more on his philandering ways and doesn’t do much to instill pride in the only President to serve more than two terms. Through Daisy’s narrative lens it’s hard to understand the magnetism he had to accrue the devotion of many, including women. And as a film it flip-flops far too suddenly between comedy, historical drama, and melodrama and therefore is disjointed from one scene to the next. Laura Linney, a proven superb actress, seems to have been suckered into believing that a film that involves both a well-loved President and well-loved King (this being the THIRD film in two years to feature King George alongside The King’s Speech and W.E.) could not fail. But alas, having so many grand elements means the film has only farther to fall on its face and her character is given such little importance to the story no amount of great acting could bring life into it.

It’s a shame that such a crown jewel of a performance from Bill Murray would be wasted on such a poor script. Now can someone please write a better historical drama about FDR for him? Had this one been better, he’d easily have been getting the Best Actor award this winter.