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Harris Shaw is still typing on his rickety typewriter, even though he likes to bellow into his (rotary dial) phone that he is long dead. He coughs and swears, drinks and smokes, quite unlike Lucy Stanbridge, heir to the publishing house which made it big half a century ago with the author’s successful novel, “Atomic Autumn”. While the old curmudgeon has turned his back on life, the energetic young woman jogs through New York’s Upper East Side, receiving live updates from her ambitious assistant about (falling) sales figures and (crushing) influencer blogs. A book tour, of all things, with the old boy and his new work is meant to save the publishing house. But the old codger is a real pain in the arse. Spewed out in a British accent, his “bullshite!” quickly becomes the hashtag of a generation of US hipsters – but it doesn’t sell any books. In her directing debut, Lina Roessler stages Lucy and Harris’ at times absurd, at others heartfelt motel trip as a road movie in which Aubrey Plaza has to pull out all the stops to brave Sir Michael Caine (who was born, we should remember, in 1933). And she succeeds. In the end, this visibly moves not only the grumpy old man, but also all fans of literary films – and, of course, of Caine himself. (Berlinale)