Jesus, what a depressing movie. I could tell this was probably a good book — but as a movie, it is kinda all over the place. Still, the themes of mortality, loss, fatalism, grief, etc are interesting and many of the performances (Frank Langella and Rosanna Arquette particularly) are good. And many of the performances are a little off — the kid is terrible; Elizabeth Perkins is channeling and then isolating the annoying qualities of Mary-Louise Parker; and Andrew McCarthy (!), although very sympathetic as the Bad Actor, may be so as it seems to be coming from a real place. Plus the music is obtrusive and horrid. And what’s with the dissolves?! But there is a lot of good will flowing from this movie. It is very earnest and it wants to be loved and it ain’t BS. Basically, you kind of have to be a creep to be so critical of a movie like this — emotions are raw when loved ones are dying and that’s what you are going to get here. Lastly, since the movie does list David Cronenberg as one of the exec producers, there are 2 or 3 scenes that make you go “wow, that was dark, unexpected and weird!” (HIV poz fetish sex, for starters.) One has to wonder if those were the days Dave wandered on to the set.