[Spoiler herein, if this thing is capable of actually being spoiled.]
One of the worst experiences I've had in the cinema in recent times was going to see A Late Quartet on Saturday. It was excruciatingly awful: clichéd, plot-predictable, musically refined sensibilities for those who really know how to feel, and laid on like honey and peanut butter; with one scene in which the movie basically collapses, as mother visits daughter, just out of bed with mother's musician colleague, to be told by daughter that mother has ruined her life. Readers, I cringe to remember it.
There is some further account of the direness by Ryan Gilbey here. Except that Gilbey makes an exception for Christopher Walken's performance, which he calls outstanding. Don't believe it. Walken fits right in, with his oh-so-delicate and suffering sensitivity conveyed by a sad eye and a near-sneer. You want Walken - a true veteran - then you should stick to the likes of this.