For many Americans, winning the lottery remains nothing more than a pipe dream, an irreverent way to make an offhand remark about what one would do if money were no obstacle. Inspired by true events, Jerry and Marge Go Large tells the story of a couple in their “golden years” who turned that pipe dream into a guarantee, over and over again.
When Jerry (Bryan Cranston) is forced into retirement from his longtime job at the cornflakes factory, he wonders: what’s next? Fortunately for Jerry, he also has Marge (Annette Bening), who is eager to reconnect to the husband she’s had since age 17. One day, compelled by mathematical probability, Jerry discovers a flaw in a local powerball game called Winfall that guarantees a profit if enough tickets are played during a particular type of bonus drawing. Jerry tries to hide his new gambling hobby from Marge – they’ve always been known as the pragmatic pair – but when she discovers his secret, she jumps at the chance of finding something new to share in their older age.
When Winfall becomes no longer available in Michigan, Jerry and Marge begin taking road trips to Massachusetts, where they partner with a local gas station attendant (Rainn Wilson) to print thousands of tickets each time the rolldown bonus is in play. They spend the next several days sorting through tickets in a nearby motel. What would feel like incredibly tedious work for many, is like a second honeymoon for Jerry and Marge – a chance to make the most of their post-retirement life together.
The real hook of the film’s narrative comes from the unexpected turn that, instead of keeping their discovery to themselves, Jerry and Marge quickly open their operation to their friends, family, and the community they are a part of. Where the title leads the viewer to expect that the couple is primed for some luxurious spending spree, their efforts effectively take wealth from rich, capitalist America and redistribute it back into the small Michigan town where they live. Jerry and Marge form an investment company, selling shares to the locals for higher capital and then distributing the prize money. While the individual payouts mean that some members of the community spend their winnings on themselves – Jerry’s accountant buys himself a sports car – most put their share of the pot directly into ensuring the livelihood of the town by bolstering a vanishing arts and food culture; an ice cream shop is able to reopen and a beloved jazz festival can finally return to the town’s public grounds. These are selfless individuals that largely care more about the wellbeing of their neighbor than themself, and the entire community is made better off by this willingness to share.
The film’s greatest shortcoming becomes its resistance to having any significant obstacles for its title duo. Even though the film fronts as an elderly “Bonnie and Clyde” crime flick, the couple shows little concern or caution as their gameplay is entirely legal, resulting in stakes that feel considerably low. They even feel comfortable enough to walk into the Winfall headquarters and make demands as if they were stakeholders. While company executives were clearly aware of the flaw, they chose to simply ignore it because it still drove their overall sales. There’s also hardly any tension in the central relationship, as Jerry and Marge tend to be on the same page throughout the entire film. There is a small source of unresolved tension between Jerry and his son, Doug (Jake McDorman), but it feels more like an afterthought and plays as very heavy-handed within the stereotype of a father and son who struggle to communicate.
The screenplay’s most successful attempt at presenting conflict comes from a rival group of Harvard students, whose leader, Tyler (Uly Schlesinger), has also discovered the flaw while researching a thesis that compares the odds of different lottery games. Even so, the antagonizing obstacle of Tyler is never treated as much of a threat by the filmmaking, and instead feels more like a mild annoyance based on generational differences. At worst, Jerry and Tyler continue to dip into each other’s pot, but a vague attempt at blackmail from Tyler is conveniently discredited, and a final showdown plays more like an awkward beat of parental disappointment over any sort of triumphant change in character or plot. Tyler’s motives are selfish, his actions a stark juxtaposition to those taken by Jerry, even if his dismissal of community values ultimately comes across as heavy-handed.
Jerry and Marge Go Large is a feel-good, accidentally anti-capitalist, true story about a long-married pair of Robin Hood-ing retirees, but it also hits a deeper note on the value found in one’s life, particularly when nearing the end of it. While it may feel dramatically slight for some, it still makes for a charming comfort film without any space for grievance, and provides a Capra-esque finale that leaves us with a big smile! Watch it with your parents and grandparents.
