I was soooo close to walking out and leaving the bride at the altar. Phony “reality” makes me want to kill myself–maybe not myself so much as everybody in or involved with whatever train wreck I happen to be watching. This particular train wreck plays out in the vein of the world’s worst Dogme 95 film (a 90s movement where a ”natural” filmmaking aesthetic is upheld above all else) with the added bonus of being sketched out like a bad indie filmmaking exercise. The scinerio (notice I didn’t say story) is that Kym (Anne Hawathy) comes back form rehab for the weekend. It happens to be her sister Rachael’s wedding and Kym, a druggie/former child model (the two are exclusive), happens to have a lifetime of pent up issues that she’s got to work out at the worst possible time. Pardon, I should say worst possible times in the plural seeing as how the film tackles about one issue, crisis or repressed memory a minute. The fatal flaw here is that it is pretty much the same issue/crisis/repressed memory getting worked on then re-worked on every minute. “Rachael” drones on as if director Johnathan Demme rangled a bunch of overzealous theater students together, gave them this broken-home scenario, and said: GO!

And, boy, there sure is a lot of go. For two hours Rachael and co. fight, dance, play music, sing, cry in public and even find time for family competitions to see if the father (the should-stay-in-theater Bill Irwin) can load the dish washer faster than the black dude from TV on the Radio. Yes, a dish washer loading contest acts as a central set piece in this film. And this dish washer loading contest ends… in tears. Not of joy, which many of us dish washer loaders have apparently experienced, but, rather, tears of horror and profound sadness. I’m sorry but… what the fuck! Oh, sure critics laud this masterpiece but, really, it’s 2008′s year’s phoniest indie drama that blends “Family Stone” with ”Pieces of April” with DISH WASHER LOADING (an act “April” also indulged in). And as a bit of trivia, failed actress and newtime (crappy)screenwriter Jenny Lumet is Sydney Lumet’s daughter!

“That is so unfair! That is so unfair!!!” Kym shrieks during a fight with Rachel. What’s unfair? The fact that Rachael announces she’s pregnant in the middle of an argument about Kym’s disastrous pre-wedding toast. So, then, mid-fight, the whole family (remember, ALL fights in this house are done publicly) jumps up, laughing and cheering… and then fighting. All at once. The writing, acting and directing departments all suck at conveying and transitioning the bi-polarity of emotions. I’m sorry, but when theatricalities ring false I go berserk. This family ensemble is not just dealing with the past (drugs, accidental deaths, divorce, lies, and two major car accidents) and the present (uh, did I mention how many dishes need to be cleaned in this household), but they dwell so much on the two as to beat them into the ground to a point of un-recognition. Their problems become not only redundant but a homogeneous mishmash. If you want to see a (good) film that thrives in the everyday chaos of our lives, a title where multiple layers of dialogue and drama are managed effectively, then I suggest you see “Happy Go Lucky.”

The lynch pin in this prefab madhouse is Anne Hawathaway and she’s going to get an Oscar nomination for her tour de fierceperformance as this total wreck of a human who must make everything about, her, her, her. And though her part is competently done (for what that statement is worth given how I feel about this film), the constant bickering, harping, shouting and emotional group hugs madethe performance feel as winded as her many heated conversations. Characters do not just talk, shout, eat, punch and bitch at Kym (and vice versa) but they talk eat and bitch at her as if the world is ending RIGHT NOW and they have to get it all out of their system at this time and in this house. The fistfight with dear old mom (Debra Winger) is so excessive that it boarders on ludicrous. With tears on tap and arms on flail, lives are lived x100 and Johnathan Demme captures the range of bourgeois emotion with a single camera, shooting his subjectsdocumentary style. With past credits that include ”Silence of the Lambs” and the underrated “Manchurian Candidate” remake, Demme has been obsessed with non-fic docs ranging from subjects Neil Young to Jimmy Carter for the better part of this decade and, well, maybe he should stay in that field. The fatal error here is that the dysfunctional family tension is so contrived and bottled in this setting that the realistic shooting style only heightens the falseness at play. There’s a reason why Dogme 95 burned out and this naturally unnatural story highlights its demise every step of the way.

Rachael Getting an: F