Inoffensive, unremarkable and mostly just a bit naff, this adaptation of Bill Bryson's memoir of walking the Appalachian Trail is about as good as it could possibly have hoped to be, which is to say not very good at all.
Tramping, as we call it, is predominantly an internal experience; likewise Bryson's writing in the 1998 book, which recorded his responses to the experience, along with some amusing anecdotes narrated with the self-effacing mild hyperbole that has earned him legions of admirers.
In turning those words into on-screen action, the screenplay quite drains them of spark, in the same way as explaining a joke makes it unfunny. What's left is essentially a series of punchline-driven episodes, most of which fall flat.
The project, which Redford produced, has been around since 2005 - he initially wanted Paul Newman, who died in 2008, to star with him and a couple of visual nods to the pair's classic Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, make the final cut. But the long gestation has delivered something bereft of life.
Schaal, fondly remembered as the Conchords' New York fan, is an inspired piece of casting - it was her face I imagined when I met Mary Ellen in print. But having a couple of septuagenarians in a story about men in their 40s is silly.
