Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood (PG-13, 2002)

Playwright Sidda Lee Walker (Sandra Bullock), preparing for a Broadway opening of her autobiographical play, tells a reporter for Time magazine that her childhood was troubled, causing her mother, Vivi (Ellen Burstyn), to stop talking to her. Vivi's lifelong friends, who as children declared themselves to be the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, step in, sharing with Sidda a scrapbook that will help her understand and forgive her mother.

DIVINE SECRETS OF THE YA-YA SISTERHOOD has all of the ingredients for a good, old-fashioned chick flick -- an Oscar-winning cast willing to pull out all the stops; quirky, flawed, but relentlessly adorable and completely devoted characters with cute names; handsome, supportive, understanding, and completely devoted boyfriends (one with a cute accent); and a mother-daughter reconciliation. Everyone is just as colorful as can be. It even has a built-in audience of fans who made the book into a sleeper sensation. But it doesn't quite make it into the pantheon of chick flick greatness, alongside such classics as Terms of Endearment and Steel Magnolias. The story has more flash than heart, and the resolution is a little too pat and easy. We hear a lot about the great friendship but don't really feel it. There is something truly unsavory about the portrayal of knocking someone out and abducting her as madcap and charming. And the plot is a Swiss cheese of logical holes. Still, it is a great pleasure to watch these fine actresses give their all, and to hear the soundtrack by T. Bone Burnett, the guy behind the magnificent Grammy-winning soundtrack of O Brother Where Art Thou.

Sidda learns that it was not her fault and it was not really Vivi's fault, either, and Vivi learns a few things, too, so there is a happy ending for everyone. But it never feels real. Part of it is the absence of the people far more likely than Vivi's friends to help Sidda sort through everything -- where are her sisters and the other petites ya-yas (children of the Ya-Yas)? It is superficial and a little manipulative -- the big revelation that is supposed to answer all questions is not so big and leaves more than a few questions still open. The acting is a joy, though, especially the divine Maggie Smith as a steel magnolia who drags around an oxygen tank and tosses off quips drier than any martini. Burstyn and Judd do a terrific job of melding their performances so that you can believe they are playing the same character.