Every riven family should have this dilemma: 30 years after deserting you, Dad shows up on your stoop with six months to live and $687,000 in cash to buy his way back into your affections. This latest in Neil Simon's fantasies of generation-gap bridgework runs mainly on charm, not on the bile and bathos that fueled Only When I Laugh and I Ought to Be in Pictures. Jason Robards, the errant father, is as resourcefully genial as a Damon Runyon Santa Claus; Donald Sutherland keeps his dimples flexed playing a policeman who demonstrates his love of literature by misquoting...

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