The flaws in Ezra are obvious despite its quest to not sound like a typical dramedy. The characters are foulmouthed, and yet they resort to familiar platitudes at the exact moments you would expect. Director Tony Goldwyn and screenwriter Tony Spiridakis set up a scene and do not always go for the obvious payoff, and yet there are several saccharine moments that barely resemble actual human behavior. The cast is impressive, full of heavy hitters who don’t typically appear in fare like this, and yet this is the kind of film that makes you think they should fire their agents or get better taste. The best thing about Ezra, which is a disaster in every conceivable way, is that it finally ends.

Despite the title, Goldwyn’s film is not actually about Ezra (William Fitzgerald), a boy with autism living in New York City. The real subject is Ezra’s father, Max (Bobby Cannavale), a struggling stand-up comedian with rage issues. Max co-parents with his ex-wife, Jenna (Rose Byrne), and lives with his father, Stan (Robert De Niro), while he tries to get back on his feet. Jenna and Stan are both sick of Max because, despite obvious affection for his kid, he routinely makes spectacular errors in judgment. All children need structure and boundaries, not just those with special needs, but Max has no problem taking Ezra to an adults-only comedy club and returning him to Jenna around midnight. When anyone complains about Ezra, Max is quick to get violent. This untenable situation comes to a head when, through a contrived misunderstanding, Max gets a restraining order from Ezra and literally kidnaps him. It is around this point where Ezra becomes an episodic road movie where Ezra and Max learn bittersweet life lessons.

At first, the issues are mild. Max’s stand-up is not particularly funny or observant, despite the film insisting he was once a brilliant comedy writer (his career tanked after he punched Conan O’Brien in the dick). His one-on-one scenes with Ezra are slightly better because we can see how paternal intensity can be an asset. Max bulldozes through social situations, taking the negative attention so that Ezra can seem more ordinary in comparison. That strategy does not work so well with his other personal relationships, and so the scenes with Jenna and Stan devolve into shouting matches. Their frustration with Max is plausible, and yet their tolerance of him is not.

Still, the most egregious misstep is how Ezra expects love to overshadow glaring, impossible flaws. That applies not just to Max’s heartfelt, albeit combative, parenting style, but plot contrivances like a climax that defies the rules of time and space. Days after Max and Ezra leave New York for Los Angeles, Jenna and Stan pursue them, and yet they all converge multiple times—always at the moment that strives for poignance it never once achieves. The repeated failed attempts to make us care about this family is ultimately exhausting, and when Jenna and Stan rationalize Max’s conduct, it is as if the film gaslights us into thinking he is a competent father.

Perhaps most galling is how, despite its overwhelming issues, there are moments where the film is almost convincing. Cannavale, Byrne, and De Niro are terrific actors, capable of comedy and drama, so there are scenes where you almost believe what they are saying. Not surprisingly, Cannavale and De Niro have genuine chemistry; and Stan is plausible as a short-tempered man who never quite learned how to raise a child. We learn through Max’s stand-up that Stan would put his hands on Max, a setup for a desperate scene where Max calls his father and tells him he got so angry with Ezra he nearly hit him. Ezra is full of platitudes about the challenges and unique joys of raising a child with autism, and in this dire moment, the film cuts through all that, and Stan gives advice in simple, raw terms. It is a rare moment of honesty that stands out because of the unearned sentiment and whimsy surrounding it.

Goldwyn has been a fixture of movies and television for years, and like many actors who moonlight as filmmakers, he can draw big names toward mediocrity. Aside from the aforementioned cast, Vera Farmiga and Rainn Wilson appear as Max’s friends—both of whom have inhuman levels of acceptance and patience for a wanted federal fugitive. While they help illuminate why Max behaves the way he does, they offer little insight into Ezra, a boy whose hang-ups and peculiarities are never adequately defined. This film comes from a genuine place, as Spiridakis has a son with autism and knows his way around show business. His experience never translates to anything credible, though, even on the basic relationship between father and son, because Ezra is more of a plot device than a character. In its zeal to present the difficulty and exhaustion of raising a child with autism, this film neglects the fundamentals of comedy and drama to the point where we simply cannot care anymore.

Ezra opens in theaters on May 31.