According to the innocuous, forgettable “Keeping Up With the Steins,” some well-off Jews (parents and children alike) consider the bar mitzvah reception far more important than the service.
Not only that, those same parents often compete to outdo each other by throwing the most unique and outlandish party, regardless of their child’s wishes.
And on an unrelated note, men whose fathers skipped out when they were kids can harbor resentments well into adulthood.
If any of this comes as a revelation to you, by all means pack up your clan and rush out to see “Keeping Up With the Steins.” You’ll laugh your socks off at the crassness on display at the outset, and you’ll be touched to your core by the spirit of generosity and reconciliation that infuses the closing scenes.
On the other hand, if you have a vague feeling that this low-budget independent film is only a notch above television, your instincts are right on.
Bar mitzvah boy Benjamin Fiedler (Daryl Sabara) is your ordinary, good-hearted kid for whom adolescence wavers between humiliation and bafflement. He’d love to avoid the spotlight, but his agent father Adam (a resolutely bland Jeremy Piven) is determined to produce a bar mitzvah bash that will top the one staged by his archrival Arnie Stein (Larry Miller).
Ben stealthily sends an invitation to his grandfather Irwin (the stalwart Garry Marshall), who abandoned his wife (Doris Roberts) and son decades ago and now lives on an Indian reservation with a New Age girlfriend.
When Irwin shows up on Adam’s doorstep, the table is set for a confrontation, inevitably culminating in hugs all around. Oops, did I give something away?
Irwin’s primary focus, though, is bonding with Ben. It turns out the old flake is actually a savvy, well-grounded life coach who understands what’s going on with Ben better than Adam does. Oops, did I — ah, never mind.
“Keeping Up With the Steins” is set in the upscale Brentwood section of L.A., a stand-in for every insular Jewish suburb in America. The only non-Jews are trophy wives or vapid girlfriends, allowing the film to dodge any reflections on Jewish assimilation in the broader culture.
The jokes, such as the “Titanic”-themed Stein bar mitzvah party that opens the movie, rely on tired, unflattering stereotypes. The scene is clearly intended as affectionate satire, but its witlessness is offensive.
A greater affront is the general irrelevance of women to the story. Only Roberts, as Ben’s bubbe, is given anything substantial to do. Jamie Gertz is woefully underutilized as Ben’s mom, while Daryl Hannah (as Irwin’s girlfriend Sacred Feather, aka Sandy Frost) exists as standard-issue comic relief.
“Keeping Up With the Steins” was written by Mark Zakarin, whose sitcom-with-poignancy style was honed during his tenure as a program developer at ABC and Showtime. Scott Marshall, Garry’s non-Jewish son, makes his directorial debut. Rest assured they’ll remember this movie far longer than anyone who sees it.
The most amusing aspect of the whole enterprise is the effusive statement in the press kit from Zakarin’s Pacific Palisades cantor.
“In the future,” the cantor writes, the film “will be required viewing for each of my b’nai mitzvah families as they begin to plan their ceremony and party.”
The good news? After that, learning the Haftarah won’t seem nearly as painful.
“Keeping Up with the Steins” opens Friday, May 26 around the Bay Area.