Having already put out five irreverent and humorously garrulous movies, writer/director Kevin Smith has decided to tread a dangerous artistic territory -- that of the contented individual. Traditionally, more potent art is created when the heart and soul still churn within some inner chamber of dissatisfaction; with those who have found love and a sense of peace, artistic efforts can appear a little bland. It's a cynical take, but I've seen this happen too many times to dismiss it. Although I'd hate to think Smith might fall victim to such a pattern, I understand he has reason to explore this phase of his career, given the apparent satisfaction he's enjoying since becoming a devoted husband and father. If Jersey Girl is any indication, though, we might have some cause for concern.

One can't begrudge Smith the attempt to make a warmhearted movie about the significance of fatherhood, and his is a noble, heartfelt effort. More alarming, though, is how corny it turned out to be. The film possesses a few instances of daring, not the least of which is the depiction of the sudden end of an idyllic relationship between main character Ollie Trinke and his significant other, Gertrude, played respectively by Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez (having them look so natural together, in light of recent celebrity-gossip events, also provides a rather sweet irony). This sad moment leaves Ollie bereft of Gertrude, but in the position of caring for their surviving baby girl, named after her mother and nicknamed Gertie. Also intriguing is the casting of George Carlin as Ollie's patient but acerbic father, whom he is forced to move in with in order to have someone help with the new baby. But from here it's all downhill.

What emerges is a fairly standard version of the tale of a father who must choose between having the career of his dreams and the love and lifestyle of his family. For some reason, these two are always mutually exclusive in the movies. It's not a good thing to me when a movie reminds me of Brett Ratner's The Family Man, which also featured nearly the exact same dilemma for the protagonist, right down to the home in New Jersey vs. the job in New York. Here, Ollie loses his job shortly after Gertie is born -- flash forward to seven years later and we find Ollie still living with dad and now sharing his line of work.

While it's apparent to the audience (or at least made explicitly clear to viewers because the various peripheral characters say so) that Ollie's life would be most rewarding by thinking of his family first, he naturally has to pull a George Bailey and wonder how much better his existence would be if he could only get away from this place. Ollie, however, doesn't receive the benefit of the kind of strong characterization that James Stewart's famous character gets, where you could see the bitterness forming on the man like crusty barnacles gathering on a ship's hull.

After Ollie goes through his initial post-trauma anger (Affleck gives a committed performance, better than his usual, but he's still not convincing when he tries to cry), his life at seven years later is depicted perfunctorily through his daily interaction with his daughter (played by Raquel Castro at age seven) and his titillating conversations with the new friend/potential love interest in his life, Maya (Liv Tyler). None of them do a particularly strong job of showing us the strength of his bond to his daughter, nor of hinting at a degree of resentment capable of creating the central sudden outburst that Ollie delivers late in the movie.

One could blame this failure on any number of things, but a general clumsiness seems to be the pervasive element. It's somewhat expressed in moments where you can feel Smith's creative drives trying desperately to break out of this kind of material, such as with Maya, a woman whose too-good-to-be-true quirkiness creates a fuzzy interference in the fabric of this film's universe. A more dire example would be when the movie cuts away from the moment Ollie supposedly delivers a great piece of spontaneous public spin doctoring. We could have been shown what Ollie was sacrificing instead of just hearing him tell us later in a recap. The result? A  severe disservice to the movie's attempt at solidifying its emotional core.

In the end, the overall use of the career-vs.-family conflict itself may be the most culpable, for from that plot structure comes too many trite elements. The other characters admonish and discourage the protagonist's selfish drive for a career. The kid is adorable. The important appointment falls on the same day as the kid's school function. The protagonist comes to a realization after hearing some key piece of profundity from a conversation. This can't be Kevin Smith, who gave us God as a fan of skee ball, actors playing themselves and former characters in the same movie, and other doses of ingenuity. Jersey Girl simply possesses too much been-there-done-that-ness, making itself play like a polite family movie that works to obscure any moments of insight behind the curtain of The Plot. Although the effort is touching, it can't defeat the feel that it's trying too hard to be safe -- and safe is not a word one easily associates with Smith.

(Released by Miramax and rated "PG-13" for language and sexual content inluding frank dialogue.)

Review also posted on www.windowtothemovies.com.