Critic Reviews

My Mother’s Wedding neatly juxtaposes its subplots with the joyous event that serves as its centerpiece.

Considering the rest of the summer’s flotsam, My Mother’s Wedding is hardly a waste of time. In an otherwise grim summer, it goes well with air-conditioning.

My Mother’s Wedding is a perfectly nice film. It’s tough not to think that it might have been much more.

The film was originally titled “North Star.” Yet, despite a few moments of connection and insight, that is precisely what this story is missing.

It may not reach the heights of other great dysfunctional family indies, but the characters are at least engaging enough to watch that the movie isn't a waste of time.

Knowing that the story comes from a real place is important for the experience. It gives “My Mother’s Wedding,” a perfectly average film that doesn’t quite land the way it should, an emotional depth that it’s otherwise lacking.

We’re wondering why these accomplished women could be so uniformly stunted by their delusions of paternal grandeur — which could maybe make for a funny setup. In this overly mannered, weirdly flat dramedy, it’s not.

It’s a shame, with this much talent in front of and behind the camera, a more precise picture couldn’t emerge from material so obviously close to the heart.

Where Jonathan Demme’s Rachel Getting Married completely immersed viewers in the sometimes messy intimacies of family, My Mother’s Wedding feels more like a stage production that forgot to include its first act.

In North Star’s attempt to be sincere and heartfelt, everything feels weirdly prosaic and unduly sentimental. It all makes for an immensely forgettable film.