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Kevin Spacey leads this Hollywood garb play about the bravery it takes to grasp happiness, that clues us in to the therapy-driven mood.
You cant repair people, says Henry (Spacey), which, since hes a head doctor, is not really promising; his clients embody a vanishing singer (Saffron Burrows), an uncertain screenwriter (Mark Webber), a strenuously upsetting representative (Dallas Roberts) and a washed-up sex drug dependant (Robin Williams). The base of Henrys basin is unearthed as he takes on the pro bono box of a film-nut schoolgirl (Keke Palmer) perplexing to cope with a bereavement; have they found usual belligerent in one another? Sadly, Thomas Moffetts book doesnt illuminate his characters" problems so most as put up with them, and the picture, already fluttering with self-pity, becomes a rather unchanging operation of tantrums, confrontations and quasi-epiphanies. Its West Coast cry-baby things all the way, and not even the late coming of Gore Vidal as a TV interviewer can whet the edges.
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