For anyone who thought Peter O'Toole might have died around the same time as other British thespians like Alec Guinness and John Gielgud (who are actually decades his senior), Venus returns quite the opposite verdict. In fact, O'Toole -- who has worked steadily in secondary roles and minor films -- is so effective here, he was the sentimental favorite to finally win his first Oscar, which eventually went to Forest Whitaker. Had it happened, it would have been no mere token of respect. What's so thrilling about his work in Venus, the story of an aged actor utterly bedeviled by a girl barely out of her teens (Jodie Whittaker), is just how creepy he's willing to be. The brilliant balancing act of his performance is that he's not merely a lifelong ladies' man who refuses to retire. He's also a real letch, pursuing a girl young enough to be his granddaughter. Not only does he know and embrace this, but he manages to make the audience forgive and actually laugh with him -- even though he might come across as a pedophile under a different lens. Thankfully, Roger Michell's film is not the story of a bitter fight against aging, which would have been too obvious by half. It's the story of a man who doesn't even consider age an impediment to his desires, and is somehow liberated by that fact. This isn't to say O'Toole's Maurice doesn't have his share of pathetic episodes -- they just aren't tied exclusively to the fact that he's a septuagenarian perv. In the film's other key performance, Whittaker goes toe to toe with O'Toole. She's especially effective in gradually revealing Jessie's erotic magnetism, seeming anything but enchanting in her first scene, as she lies about on the couch spitting vitriol at her elders.