Son: "I failed algebra." Father: "That's okay... I failed your mother."If this is the kind of "cute" exchange that gets you all mushy-gushy, then dig in. After all, SOMEONE must have been created to enjoy this pathetic pap. This scene was also meant to be funny - but in a SWEET way. Please, someone... make space, I gotta rush to the loo... MFM is one of those "tear-jerker comedies", the worst sub-genre there is. Predictably, nothing here is funny, nothing is "cute", and the only tears that left my little head were the huge drops that formed themselves under my eyes as I repeatedly yawned, wondering if something of quality would EVER pass by the screen. In the end, as Sobieski sobbed for a record 48th time, I broke wind and that was pretty much the highest quality - of anything - that came anywhere near my TV set during that not-so-fateful viewing."My First Mister", with a title that is just as embarrassing to read as much of the dialog here is embarrassing/unbearable to listen to, is a desperate cross between Hollywood formula schmaltz, French generation-gap sex-romp male fantasy, plus a small amount of that supposedly "deep" indie movie genre with the unsuccessful touches of quirkiness-for-the-sake-of-it that usually go along with that sort of thing. MFM takes the worst elements of these anyway mostly bad genres, and serves you a product you can't real eat to. MFM is something to vomit to, hence if you wanna prepare a meal to accompany this film, you'd better count on that food leaving your body just as soon as you swallow it. MFM is NOT a quirky indie movie by any means. It is predictable, totally unoriginal sweetititity nonsense, full of overly melodramatic, sentimental plot-devices such as a TV-movie-of-the-week sudden fatal disease outbreak. Fat Al is dying, people, so let's all get those tissues! And guess what else: he is too noble too take advantage of a 17 year-old that comes on to him OUT OF THE BLUE. Yeah, I guess MFM was meant to target lonely middle-aged housewives who are trying to waste time between two Amanda Quick novels, but also middle-aged men who have just entered a midlife crisis hence are starting to have dreams about young and willing teenage girls... Brooks is also so very predictably brave about dying - aren't we all?? Those Tinseltown weepers and their perpetually brave dying characters... I'm touched. I would have given this movie four more stars if only Brooks had screamed "I don't wanna die!!!!" at the top of his lungs. A bit more realism hence unpredictability, please.One of the many annoying aspects is that for most of the movie all the side-characters are cardboard caricatures. McKean is wasted as a tight-a** suit-and-tie guy, Kane plays an overly ditsy and manic mother, Goodman is the dumb aging hippie, etc... None of them have any credibility, hence are neither funny nor real - or at the very least belong to a different kind of comedy than this, perhaps a screwball comedy. It is as though these absurd characters invaded the set of MFM by leaving the set of a very bad sitcom. (But that'd be like leaving one sinking ship for another.) The lesser, one-appearance-only, characters are even dumber: the woman that rents out apartments is swayed by the most ridiculous story Brooks cooks up (hence totally unfunny); Sobieski sells a suit to a store customer who also acts like an utter imbecile, and so on. This movie does justice to no-one in its cast except perhaps Brooks, who is anyway an overrated, unfunny slob. He belongs in this dull turd. At times I had a feeling as if Brooks was trying to walk in Robin Williams's footsteps, when he played all those terrible, totally pathetic pity-me-please-weep-for-me-please characters. Goodman, on the other hand, is wasted, making a fool of himself as Leelee's "free-spirit" father. Talk about moronic casting... Leelee plays a know-it-all (i.e. dumb) Gruftie (Goth chick) kid with suicidal tendencies. She is spoiled, she is confused, arrogant-yet-insecure, and we are supposed to like her. Worse yet, the makers of MFM are so out-of-touch with music fashions that Sobieski listens not to Type O Negative, Danzig, or the Smashing Pumpkins, but some ultra-commercial chewing-gum pop which she proudly presents to Brooks in of the movie's many cretinous scenes. In spite of its glaring flaws, the first 15-20 minutes were at least semi-watchable. However, as time passes it becomes quite apparent that the script has nowhere to go. It was obvious the two would not have sex, hence much of the middle is about dull, supposedly insightful conversations between the fat loser and the black-nail-polish brat. And then came the disease, the lost son, the dying/hospital scenes, the unavoidable death, the inevitable crush between Leelee and the son: there were gallons of tears dripping all over the furniture while soppy Hollywood violins doodled in the background... You get the picture.When I found out that the actress Christine Lahti directed this junk I wasn't really surprised: 1) "what I really wanna do is direct" is a disease that nearly every thespian catches nowadays, and 2) Lahti is one of those actresses that you've seen weep a 1000 times in about as many movies...

Leelee Sobieski is very good as displaced teenager Jennifer Benson, who is disgusted and bored with her life (like many teenagers, at some point).She is in the mall looking for a jobs while in full Goth costume. She meets Albert Brooks, a middle-aged man who owns a men's clothing store. Eventually, she gets a job, and starts to relate to him.The title is a bit odd, but basically she is a girl reading Sylvia Plath, her mother is alienating and unsympathetic, and she wants to find meaning in her life. A human story with a surprise ending.Directed by Christine Lahti and well worth viewing. 9/10.

**SPOILER begins down at word SPOILER**If you dig a deep hole, even if you do a perfect job of digging a hole that serves a very good purpose, you still have to climb out. I think I'm happier that My First Mister does the climbing, even though that makes the last part of the film more trite than the glorious beginning. Some stories dig, and dig deep, but to be a 'story' at all, they have to end, not just stop, although for this film I would have chosen a less Hollywood-tied-up ending. (But I didn't invest the money in a film that needs to pay the bills).I'm glad the medium and considerable talent using it could bring me this lovingly ambiguous event.Beyond that, the film showed me a few things I enjoyed learning.From the story I especially took away the re-enforcing message that if we let our lack of boldness rule, we may be letting others down. Humility isn't thinking we have nothing to offer, or even that we might not be the only person in the world to offer it. The happiness of the rest of someone else's life may depend on us. In fact, a la It's a Wonderful Life, it probably has. Ignoring this isn't "humble," it's cowardly.**SPOILER** In a mix of story and film, I thought after the great day R and J spent together that J was going to be molested, or in a car accident, to precipitate the third act with a crisis--I felt a TV moment coming on. So when we made it clear until R was late coming back from his jog (did we know he jogged?), I was actually holding out that a heart attack (turns out to be leukemia) would straight up kill him, then J would have the burden of the third act entirely in her court (Sobieski could have handled it), say, by having to do all the things a wife does after her husband's death while being treated as a child by ambulance personnel, funeral home director, clergy, et al. Think of the scene where she wants to dress R's body but is pushed away by funeral home people, and so can only leave a piercing stud attached to his clothes--an icon of her lonely youth used as a symbol of her maturing love. Her kiss from death would play out in a social role she wanted, but was not accepted in, in ironic juxtaposition to how she had imagined it playing out beyond any (accepted) social roles. And the scene where she almost but doesn't cut herself, and breaks down in shoulder-shaking sobs, and her mother shows up at her partially-open apartment door with food, hears her, and enters into the darkness, crossing into her own acceptance of the other side of life.But, the TV moment came...by comparison, listen to the deleted scene commentaries for Passionada--if only My First Mister had gotten the same chance at a new third act... Perhaps I'm learning that our imagined endings are still valid. Who's to say that we can't enjoy a film because of where it pointed us, even if it didn't really go there?As for the strictly film aspects, I still dislike non-standard dissolves popping up in the last one-third of a film, especially if it isn't strictly romantic comedy. Why, in such a delicate film, would an editor do something like that? But in the last supper scene the apparent discontinuity, then toast, then fading of individuals were inspiring. Did J really give that toast? To follow hinted continuity (R and Nurse Patty had already moved to the sofa, though they could have returned) she didn't, or perhaps she did, but it wasn't really like that...such a beautiful suggestion of how we remember those evenings that were too good to be true in the face of realities too bad to accept.A hole well dug, even if I didn't dig the whole as much as I might have.

This was a story about a rebellious teenager named Jennifer Wilson (Leelee Sobieski)who lived with a so 70s family. This was also a movie based on what kids, as teenagers experience through their life. For example, being rejected: Everyone fell asleep in class as Jennifer said her speech.Some kids like being the opposite: Jennifer hated smiling and she hated seeing her parents. And some kids believe that they are gay: at the age of 14, Jennifer thought she was lesbian. Being different: Jennifer loved things that were dark and warm and she wore boxers instead of g-strings. Rebelling against your religion: Jennifer believed in hell and she wanted to go there. And of course, LOVE! She had a crush on a 49 year old man named Randall Harris (Albert Brooks)who was the head of the store called "Rutherfields". Jennifer was looking for a job there. And then, Randall didn't allow her work there because, she was a goth! And , Jennifer called Randy a beer belly! HA!HA!HA!HA! Soon, Jennifer finally got a job at Rutherfields and she began to work at the back and give all the clothes colour codes and she had to arrange them all in order. And that "Shaking that ass" song suited each moment and then, you hear "Okay, don't touch me". And also when Randall said that he had a blue foot as he walked about as he got ready for a run. And not so soon, Jennifer went outside to look for Randy because, he hadn't come back. Jennifer found him lying in the road.At the hospital, a doctor named Mr.Smithman, I think (Kevin Cooney) said that Randall was dying. Jennifer was so distraught that she ran to the cemetery and rolled about on someone's grave. Ooh. It was so tragic. And like what Jennifer said: When someone's dying, you feel you don't have a life anymore". It's true because, you get so close to that person you love and when that person hasn't got long to live. Your love that you put into that person has been taken away from you.Jennifer later on went to New Mexico to find Sarah Harris, Randall's ex-wife. But fortunately, she had passed away six months earlier, according to her son Randy Harris Jr (Desmond Harrington. Jennifer told Randy that his father was still alive. Randy was busy packing up the house that he was living in. Ans sadly, Randy didn't want to see his father because, Randall was dying and Randy's mother JUST died. He had enough seeing his close family members die.The last time Jennifer saw Randall was at a dinner party. And soon, he died. Shame. And Randall left Jennifer with his son. Jennifer had also grown out of her teenage stage and she was ready to move on.A Teenage drama.