Everybody's Fine

Delivery Time: 7 to 15 Working Days Format: DVD

Robert De Niro leads a stellar cast in this insightful dramedy starring Drew Barrymore, Kate Beckinsale, and Sam Rockwell. A remake of the Italian film Stanto Tutti Bene, Everybody's Fine features De Niro playing a widower who tries to improve his relationships with his troubled adult children
One thing Robert De Niro can't be accused of is avoiding a challenge. Everybody's Fine obliges this respected actor, who made his bones playing dangerous, volatile men, to portray a low-key retiree named Frank Goode. Frank's wife has died, and since she alone kept them in touch with their four grown offspring, now scattered around the country, he's doubly cut off from family. When the Goode kids all find excuses to skip a planned reunion, Frank hauls out his suitcase and boards Amtrak with the intention of dropping in on each of them: the tightly wound Chicago ad exec (Kate Beckinsale), the Denver musician (Sam Rockwell) who's supposedly a symphony conductor, the sweet Vegas showgirl (Drew Barrymore), and the Greenwich Village artist son who's nowhere to be found. That son remains offscreen for the duration, and his portentous absence has the unintended effect of emphasizing what a hollow enterprise Everybody's Fine is. Don't blame the cast, who do yeoman work trying to define their long-unsatisfactory relationship as parent and children. None of the kids hate Dad; they just never found a measure of comfort with him, so now everybody, far from being fine, is living one fiction or another to keep it mellow. For his part, Frank suffers from an undefined illness brought on by his life's work making insulation for phone wires; and lo, throughout his journey we're urged to notice telephone cables slipping by outside the train or bus window--lines of communication!--even as the siblings are warily monitoring Dad's progress by cell phone. Writer-director Kirk Jones once made an ersatz-Irish movie, Waking Ned Devine (1997), that vulgarized ethnicity in the interests of cheap laughs and patronizing sentimentality. In Everybody's Fine Jones manages the neat trick of vulgarizing delicacy. The movie wants to pass for a sensitive meditation on the white lies people tell one another and themselves. But it so reeks of bad faith and calculation that the message isn't worth delivering. --Richard T. Jameson

Stills from Everybody's Fine (Click for larger image)