Death is inevitable. For all of us. Many of us go early. Sickness, accidents, unforseen cricumstances interrupt the course of our lives prematurely. Very few are fortunate enough to die of “old age.”

This is explored in John Carroll Lynch’s directorial debut Lucky. A quietly funny, poignant and somehow both bleak and uplifting crowd pleaser about a man coming to terms with his mortality.

John Carroll Lynch is the kind of character actor that you’ve definitely seen in more than a few movies. In recent memory his performance as a lurching, dangerous party guest in Karyn Kusama’s The Invitation, was a treat. His menacing presence was that of a confident, journeyman actor who isn’t afraid to be unlikable for the sake of the film. Here he is behind the camera and his experience as an actor shows in the honesty and humility he draws from the cast of Lucky.

But the real reason we are all here is the titular role played by one of the greatest character actors we’ve ever had. Harry Dean Stanton, perhaps the epitome of the actor that you’ve seen, but don’t know it. A fantastic, long career with roles in some of cinema’s greatest films. Harry Dean passed away two weeks ago and Lucky serves as his swan song. How fitting that at 91, Harry is able to make a final film about a man dying from nothing but age.

Lucky opens with a closeup of a cigarette being lit. We watch Lucky as he goes through his daily routine. He rests his smoke in the ashtray to stretch, drinks a glass of milk from his fridge, and gets dressed. The rest of his day is spent walking around a dusty desert town to a cafe, a convenience store and a bar later in the evening.

Most of what we learn about Lucky comes from his interactions with the people at each of these locations. People great him with a familiarity, and it is clear these are daily conversations that probably sound the same every day. Jim Jarmusch’s Paterson comes to mind as the film cycles through this day-to-day routine. There are some surreal touches, such as David Lynch, who makes a few appearances as a close friend who’s lost his tortoise. I saw a lot of echoes from Jarmusch’s film in style and structure, but Lucky has a more somber and personal tone.

This may well be Harry Dean’s greatest and most honest performance. Physically he looks very weak, as he walks along with an uneven gait, always looking as if he may fall over. His eyes full of longing. We get the impression that this film was made specifically for him to say goodbye and it seems to be both a difficult and cathartic experience. A shot of him lying awake at night, his white, sunken face poking out from his blanket is followed by one of the most touching and beautiful moments in the film at a child’s birthday party.

Few artists have as long and interesting a career as Harry Dean Stanton. Even fewer are given an opportunity to say goodbye with one final piece. Last year’s album’s from David Bowie and Leonard Cohen are good examples of this. We are lucky to have such honest works about the end of life. This brave performance is a perfect cap to a great career.