‘Everybody’s Fine’

Everything's fine, more or less, in "Everybody's Fine."

That doesn't necessarily mean everything's good.

Nice, to be sure, and well-meaning to a fault (or, more precisely, more than one), "Everybody's Fine" is the kind of sentimental journey that will have lots of viewers reaching for a tissue before, and during, its heart-tugging conclusion.

Not me. And not just because I'm a hard-hearted movie critic determined to resist such aggressive audience manipulation. (Far from it; my dad used to tease that I had "kidneys" in my eyes because I was such a notorious weeper.)

No, part of my resistance to "Everybody's Fine" is due to the fact that I vividly recall its inspiration: a 1990 Italian movie of the same name, directed by "Cinema Paradiso's" Giuseppe Tornatore and starring the legendary Marcello Mastroianni.

The new, Americanized version is written and directed by British-born Kirk Jones, whose 1998 "Waking Ned Devine" detailed the comic chaos that enveloped an Irish village when the locals discover that one of them has won the national lottery.

Unlike that movie's cozy confines, "Everybody's Fine" takes us on the cross-country journey undertaken by its gruff, blue-collar protagonist, Frank Goode (Robert De Niro).

A recently widowed retiree, Frank's the kind of old-school guy who demanded a lot of his kids -- and, once they grew up, let his late wife handle all the emotional heavy lifting.

So when his now-grown kids, one by one, cancel on a planned summer get-together, Frank decides to surprise each one with a visit.

Conveniently, health issues prevent Frank from making the journey by air, so he boards a train and heads for New York City to visit his elusive artist son David (Austin Lysy).

Next, it's off to Chicago to see his daughter Amy (Kate Beckinsale), a successful advertising executive whose home life isn't quite so successful. In Denver, Frank catches up with his son Robert (Sam Rockwell), a touring musician who's not exactly setting the concert circuit on fire.

And in Las Vegas, he has a fond reunion with his youngest, Rosie (Drew Barrymore), a showroom dancer with a spectacular high-rise apartment (complete with a panoramic view of the Strip) and some extremely sketchy explanations about her life and work.

In that, Rosie's no different from her siblings, who seem determined to put on a happy face for their visiting dad -- and tell him exactly what he wants to hear, even if it bears little or no resemblance to the truth.

The movie often takes that approach, too.

Throughout, Jones uses Frank's old-fashioned ways as a source of humor, whether it's the Perry Como song ("Catch a Falling Star") that introduces him puttering around his backyard or the family snapshots he takes with a camera that still uses film. (Remember film?)

Naturally, those snapshots symbolize Frank's penchant for seeing things as he wants them to be, not as they are. (Jones emphasizes the point by using child actors to stand in when Frank looks at his kids -- and sees the innocent tykes they were, not the conflicted adults they've become.)

As we follow Frank's journey, we know where he's headed even (and especially) before he does.

Such a mechanical approach means that -- much like the trains Frank rides -- "Everybody's Fine" rarely goes off track.

The few times it does -- notably an affecting scene in which Frank hitches a ride with a world-weary trucker ("Frozen River" Oscar nominee Melissa Leo) -- we catch a glimpse of the emotional potential "Everybody's Fine" never quite realizes, despite its earnest efforts to pluck heartstrings and jerk tears.

Yet every so often, "Everybody's Fine" delivers genuine emotional impact -- especially when it stops trying to be cute and concentrates on being honest. With its characters, that is.

On a technical level, Jones, director of photography Henry Braham (who also shot Jones' "Waking Ned Devine" and "Nanny McPhee") and production designer Andrew Jackness ("Big Night") demonstrate impressive cinematic sleight-of-hand, giving the movie an expansive feel despite the fact that all scenes featuring principal cast members were filmed in Connecticut. (Locals won't be fooled, of course; Las Vegas hasn't had passenger train service since Amtrak's Desert Wind stopped running more than a decade ago.)

And while Jones' adaptation of Massimo De Rita's original screenplay doesn't give the actors much to work with, they still manage to bring some heart and conviction to the movie's contrived confrontations.

Barrymore, playing a Vegas wannabe for the second time (the first being her aspiring singer in 2007's unlucky "Lucky You"), conveys a rueful sweetness, while Rockwell ably captures the frustration of a guy who's happy with his life -- until he's forced to measure it against his father's lofty expectations.

As that demanding father, De Niro lets the intimidating intensity of his past roles inform his performance as Frank. Thankfully, he also sidesteps some of the hammy excesses that have marked such recent romps as "Meet the Fockers" and "Stardust."

Yet it's tough to create a character who's at the crossroads when the movie he's in follows such a predictable path.

Anybody who's ever seen the original "Everybody's Fine" will know why somebody wanted to revisit it. The same, alas, cannot be said for this remake.

Contact movie critic Carol Cling at ccling@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0272.