Painfully cliche-ridden story of a dysfunctional, angst-ridden suburban family. When her superjock son kills himself, Sandy (Weaver) descends into a weed-smoking haze while the rest of her family struggles to deal with Matt's death as well as their own problems. Drugs, anger, bisexual experimentation, eating disorders, and cancer scares ensue. Writer/director Harris piles on the plot twists and tragedies to remind you of how bad these people have it. Weaver and Hirsch (as younger son Tim) are convincing, but the film's combination of grief-stricken melodrama and wry irony is awkward and contrived, and the movie just ends up feeling like a cheap knock-off of many superior films.