Helms and Wilson are sometimes a stretch as brothers, especially in the more emotional scenes. But Close is majestic as the mother, a supporting role that feels bigger than it is.

Father Figures is a baffling film, one that never seems to ever get a handle on what it is or what it wants to be. It’s one thing to make a movie about characters stuck in arrested development, unsure of where they’re going, but it’s another for the writing and editing to also feel that way. In short, Father Figures is just a straight-up mess.

Everyone here has been better, and funnier, in other things. This is a lazy story, wholly dependent upon the likability of its cast which, while considerable, isn’t enough to make it worth the trouble.

As the narrative limps along from one encounter to the next, a suspicion grows: Father Figures doesn't need to exist; but if it's going to exist, perhaps some sharper comedic talents could have developed it as a limited-run Netflix show, with each encounter developed as a half-hour episode.

The scenes are either too heavy (the climax is the downer of the year), too sedate or too gross.