Exploits some tried-and-true crowd-pleasers: the suffering artist, the recovery movement, the plucky single mom with a very cute 4-year-old, the potential couple you want together but it might not happen--a pail full of schlock with a country-western sound track. In one particularly absurd sequence, we are asked to put out of our minds the fact that you need not be a sodden country singer at the bottom of the well to lose track of a kid at the mall.
Jeff Bridges stumbles and mumbles his way to the Academy Award. People of a certain age might say, Whatever. I'm just saying it's not any good.
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